Prologue:

It has been some time since we were with Jack. Last time out, he defeated Fenris, and staked his claim with Christain Underwood to receive a SCW World title match at Inception, among his other complaints.  Jack has been entered into the World title match at Inception after his most recent performances, and it has given Jack a giant boost in confidence, though he remains as annoyed and grumpy as ever when it comes to his perceived lack of respect from SCW in general. But Jack must be all that aside in order to focus on his ultimate goal of winning the SCW World title for the third time, and becoming only the third man in SCW history to do so. He has a tall task ahead of him facing down the likes of Mac Bane, Matt Knox, and SCW World champion Ken Davison, but if there is one thing Jack isn’t shy about, it’s letting the world know his thoughts and opinions.

 

Outside the ring, Jack had been taking therapy sessions, perhaps to get in touch with his feelings, or to sort through the real mess that his life actually was. Owning a casino, drug deals, involvement with killers, a seeming lifetime bad from his own hometown and dealing with family problems has maybe given Jack some perspective, but given all that has happened in his life, perhaps it was a welcome change for Jack. But it did manage to open some old wounds, and maybe, arouse the curiosity in Jack to get the whole story.

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV.

 

Jack was seated in his recliner and looking at his phone, looking for just random news and events on social media, while Brian, read the newspaper and sipped on coffee in the early morning. The silence continued until Jack stood up and stretched. Brian peered over his paper and smirked.

 

Brian: You got another therapy session coming?

 

Jack: It’s in a few days. Why?

 

Brian: I just wondered.

 

Brian looked back down at the paper and continued to read, but Jack knew better.

 

Jack: Clearly you are interested.

 

Brian: I was just curious. I wish I had someone to sit down and listen to all my problems sometimes.

 

Jack: What’s the supposed to mean?

 

Brian: I’m just saying. I don’t know if I could get paid to listen to someone else bitch about their lives. Couldn’t pay me enough to do that. But if it helps you, more power to you.

 

Jack: You don’t need to be paid to listen to people bitch.

 

Brian: Tell me about it.

 

Jack slowly turned his icy glare at Brian.

 

Jack: You saying I’m complaining all the time?

 

Brian: Well, not to me, anyway.

 

Jack: I’m saying that all you would have to do is spend an hour on twitter. People bitch about everything there.

 

Brian: I’m good. I’ve got reliable information right here.

 

Brian tuffs out the paper to emphasize the point.

 

Jack: Nobody reads the newspaper anymore.

 

Brian: Exactly. Everybody’s got an opinion, everybody’s an expert, and nobody has any reliable information on your little phone there. You want information, it’s right here in the paper. 

 

Jack scoffs at this.

 

Jack: The only thing in the newspaper is things everybody already knows and a bunch of ads. I can see anything I need to see on my phone in seconds. The newspaper is outdated information the day it comes out. 

 

Brian: But it’s accurate. 

 

Jack: Is it?

 

Brian: Up until that point, yes. Nobody is chiming in and giving misinformation instantly either. There’s pros and cons, I guess you could say.

 

Jack: Pros and cons. Yeah. What does it have to do with my therapy? 

 

Brian: It doesn’t. But you brought it up. 

 

Jack thinks for a second. He licks his lips, and sighs, he knows what he’s about to ask needs to happen delicately. 

 

Jack: Speaking of reliable information.

 

Brian: Oh boy...

 

Jack: What happened to Josh?

 

Brian, who had been half-heartedly looking at Jack, lowered his paper and stared Jack in the face.

 

Brian: Your brother Josh?

 

Jack: Yes.

 

Brian: He’s dead.

 

Jack: I know that part.

 

Brian: He died before I could get him somewhere they could help him. 

 

Jack: But did you do everything you could to help him?

 

Brian’s mouth opens slightly from the shock of what Jack is inferring. His mouth curls into a sneer of defiance.

 

Brian: Of course I did! I killed a fucking cop to try and save his life. I tried to get him somewhere where they could patch him up. You both had cops chasing you. What was I supposed to do?! What would you have liked me to do, Stick?! 

 

Jack: I don’t know.

 

Brian: I think your little therapy sessions is making you soft. You know I did what I could for Josh. He’s my nephew. Just like you are, and just like Jay is.  I would and have done almost anything for you, because you are family. And if I could have saved your brother... if I could have saved my nephew, I would have.

 

Jack finally nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer.

 

Jack: I just needed to know. I just needed to know.

 

Brian is able to regain his composure after a moment or two and nods.

 

Brian: Good. Guess I had my own little therapy session there.

 

Jack: I guess so. 

 

Brian: If your session brought that up, that’s your answer. I did what I could for Josh. If he made it, hell... he might be right here with you. But you can’t think about what could have been. You have to think about what you gotta do.

 

Jack: Yeah...

 

--

Grand Flamingo Casino

Las Vegas, NV

 

It’s New Year’s Eve. The Casino is hopping as many gamblers and tourists have chosen to spend their New Year’s in Vegas, and many at the Flamingo. It’s going to be a very successful night for the Washington brothers, as above all the noise and all the singing and dacing in the Casino itself, Jack and Jason are on the roof. There’s still plenty of chatter and indistinct noises coming from below them, but the two brothers have since tuned that out. They stand peering into the moonlight and at the sky above. Jack finally breaks the silence and puts an arm around Jason, patting him on the back.

 

Jack: It was good, Jay.

 

Jason: What?

 

Jack: This year.

 

Jason: Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?

 

Jack: I think so.

 

Jason: You’re not sure?

 

Jack: I guess not.

 

Jason: Then why’d you say it?

 

Jack: I guess... I wanted it to be true.

 

Jason: Bro, I don’t know, I think we really made some gains in this town, but you know what we have to do in order to really own it.

 

Jack: Jay, it’s the end of the year. This is supposed to be a time to celebrate and all that.

 

Jason: Maybe that’s the Army in me talking. You just learn that holidays are another day. The day moves on and you can’t be sitting here thinking about yesterday. It’s not about that. The new day becomes the next thing you gotta do. 

 

Jack: That’s the problem. Sometimes you have to take a step back and think about things. There’s a time and place for that kind of stuff. I mean, we’re about to enter a new year and everything.

 

Jason: Maybe, but once 2022 is gone, it ain’t coming back, and you need to think about how 2023 is about to go. I mean, we’re doing this together, man.  We’ve GOT to do it together. 

 

Jack: Yeah...

 

Jack grabs a bottle of wine and just takes a swig from the bottle itself. He stands next to Jason, still looking out over the lit up Vegas strip.

 

Jack: You ever think about Josh?

 

Jason sighs.

 

Jason: Yeah. You were there man, I was too young to really do anything but... it’s one of the reasons I went away and... hell, maybe it’s part of the reason I got fucked up in my own head. I was trying to cope with that.

 

Jack: I guess that makes sense.

 

Jason: But, you know, he would be here with us if he was alive. And maybe things would have turned out differently. But we’re here now. We have to worry about the here and now. And what we can do to make it our time.

 

Jack: Yeah.

 

The countdown to the new year begins in the background.

 

Jack: Let’s make it happen.

 

The fireworks shoot off to indicate the new year has begun, and Jack and Jason toast to each other.

 

--



Click

 

Jack is seated in his home, in his chair, wearing a sardonic smile on his face. He is obviously cynical as ever as he starts, and the smile disappears.

 

Jack: Well, it’s 2023, and guess who STILL isn’t on the SCW Roster page? Yeah, you would think with all that time that the SCW brass had on its hands during the holiday season, they would make one TINY little change. But no. Let’s continue to be lazy and hide the biggest thing they have going even more. There are people on that roster page that don’t even work for this company, and I can’t get on it? That’s fucking stupid. Unlike the champions they want to champion, I haven’t bailed and walked away time and time again. I didn’t blow my chances time and time again. I’ve been here. Consistent. Rock solid. And what do I get for it? A good swift kick in the balls. I was very polite in my simple, humble request. And I have been ignored. Well, now, Inception is upon us and soon enough, there will be no god damn choice but to let the world know. 

 
But wouldn’t you know it, Jack Washington is finally getting the title shot he’s earned 10 times over and been passed over by losers, quitters, and a big fucking bag of uninteresting trash that has done nothing but tarnish that SCW world championship. I know it’s not what people want to hear, but since when have I given two shits what people want to hear? I tell them what they need to hear. The truth is hard to swallow, and I give everybody a big fist-full of it, and that’s what really annoys people. Because they can’t argue with the truth. I’ve laid it out plain as day and yet, people still don’t want to accept it. And that’s too damn bad. Because regardless of how you may feel about me, one thing I don’t do, is lie about the situation. And right now, the situation sucks, and this match really shouldn’t even be happening at Inception.

 
Oh, don’t get me wrong, there should be a World title match, but let’s just be real, Mac Bane, and especially Matt Knox, has ZERO business being in this championship match, and the only reason Ken Davison is here is because he happens to somehow have that championship. And everybody knows he doesn’t deserve it. The only truly deserving person is me. Jack Washington. It should just be me, kicking the shit out of Ken Davison yet again, and taking another title from him, yet again and then maybe, just maybe, you would think that I would get the recognition I deserve. The respect I deserve. Because I’ve fucking earned it. 

 
But with the way things are now, I won’t be holding my breath, even when I’m holding the world title over my head after Inception.

 

Jack pantomimes this action, slowly lowering his arms as he continues.
 
 
Jack: If I sound cocky, it’s because I am. But it’s really confidence. I know how good I am. I shout it at every given opportunity. But I just don’t talk the talk better than everybody here, I walk the walk better than everybody here. Nobody, absolutely NOBODY can do what I do, and I don’t need a stupid little thing to be who I am. I don’t need to wear stupid shit-kicking cowboy boots like Mac Bane, I don’t need to do some stupid religious thing like Ken Davison and I don’t need to be a constant disappointment like Matt Knox. I am the genuine article. I am just that good. But if you want, I can play any of those roles. And none of them can even fit in my shoes, much less walk in them. And that’s a fact. I’m the only one walking into this match who has earned it. Fact. I went into High Stakes, and low and behold, I won. I was put in a match against Fenris, and I won. The cream always rises to the top, and that’s what I’ve done. It’s all there for everybody to see. It’s not bragging if you can back it up, and there is NO ONE who can deny I have backed it up. Every single time I have been tested, I have passed, and now you present this Fatal Four-way match like any of these other schmucks have a chance in hell of walking out with the title. You know they don’t. I know they don’t. More importantly, THEY know they don’t. They are here to simply clear the path as I take back what was made for me. The SCW championship is a title I took right from the jump. I didn’t make any pit stops or struggle out of the gate. I mowed down every single thing in my path, and took it. 

 
And everybody got shook. 

 
So they brought in a ringer off the bench and he escaped with that title. And then I won it back and corrected that error. And then again, they dug deep in the talent roster and took it away from me. They couldn’t handle the fact that I was as good as I said I was. They wanted desperately to show everybody I was a fluke and it fucking backfired. So, now they’ve taken to basically blacklisting me. They don’t give me any credit and just hope I won’t notice. 

 
But I notice everything.

 
So now, it’s about to be a long fucking night for those three as I take back what is mine.

 

Jack licks his finger as if he’s about to go through notes, but obviously don’t have papers in his hands.
 
Jack: Where do we even start? With the Cowboy? The Old man? The Paper champion? I don’t know, but this is the most lackluster gathering of contenders I’ve seen in a while, and a garbage champion piled right on top of it. Let’s just line up these lambs for the slaughter.

 
Matt Knox? WHO? Where did you even come from? How did you get in here? How did you get anywhere NEAR this match? I mean, you must know somebody, have some friends in high places or something because I know DAMN WELL you haven’t done shit in like a year. What? A blink-and-it’s-fucking-gone world title reign? You think beating the Cowboy is impressive? I got news for you, no matter how much they tell you Mac Bane is great, he’s not. And you, are even less impressive than that. Oh, you have a bunch of titles from other places? Well hot damn, color me impressed, my guy. You and 50 other guys make the same claim. But I’m sorry, you’re Arkansas-Talladega Nights World title just isn’t cutting it for me. I need more. You have come here, and for the past what…3-5 months, have done fuck all. You are wasting everybody’s time by just hanging around when it’s clear you do not belong here.

What have you done to earn this championship match? I mean, last time you and I were in the ring together, you not only didn’t earn it, you simply were in the match because you didn’t lose. And then when it came down to putting it out there, you sat back, I must say, wisely, but you sat back and watched me kick the shit out of Ken Davison. So it really just make me question how in the hell you got here, and got back to this spot. You’ve done ZERO to earn it. You’ve come back and proven that any successes you had are long in the past and you simply can’t cut it. 

And yet, here you are like a fucking roach refusing to die. It’s time that you just go away. But not only go away, but STAY away. You are taking up space and someone else far more deserving is just sitting there, wishing they could actually contribute, while you waste space and oxygen. You have been a loser and you continue to lose, but yet, here you are. It’s ridiculous that you are even here, and even more ridiculous that you actually think you have a shot. You have about a snowball’s chance in hell of walking away with a win, and I’m going to prove to the entire world that you should be nothing more than a fading memory and this is no longer your time. Because you know as well as I do, Knox, you’re time is up. It’s been up for a long time and all you have done is embarrass yourself with your most recent performances. That’s what you’ve done, and nothing more. It’s about time that you just hit that dusty trail and walk away. But, I know, the allure of the spotlight, it’s intoxicating. It makes you want to write checks you know your body is no longer capable of cashing. But you want to keep holding on, trying to keep a death grip on that spotlight, and each day that passes, it slips more and more through your fingers. And you know it.

Now, I don’t really care what your business is with the Cowboy, or his girl and how you just didn’t do shit like a complete bitch, but that shit should be settled away from this match. Period. The facts are just that. They don’t give a shit about your stupid squabbles. This is about my title, not your dumb ass feud.

I’m just here, to once again deliver the hard truth to the matter: It’s over Knox. It’s been over for a long ass time for you, you’re just the last person to know. Don’t you worry, I’ll make it crystal clear to you and everyone else at Inception.

 

Jack makes a check mark with his finger and continues.

 

Jack: Look, Cowboy, you know damn well you don’t belong here. You won the world title three times somehow, and nobody remembers or cares. They are trying to prop you up like you are special. I have already proven, not once, but twice, that you are not. And the thing is, you know that. Everybody knows that. You’re just a long-haired cowboy who has failed at doing pretty much everything he’s ever threatened to do. Like, for real, you can’t protect your girlfriend or whatever, you were busy with your feet kicked up and failed. You tried to build a group of friends to watch your back, and they turned on you and kicked YOU out of the damn group. You couldn’t be bothered to at least try. You’ve been doing nothing but living on the past, because for you, it’s going to be your peak. You know that as well as I do. 2022 is the year of Mac Bane, and it will never be like that again. EVER.

As I said, I proved that you weren’t great. You got some random world title wins and everything else has been uneventful and uninspiring. You may have some issues with Ken, or Knox, or both. I don’t care. Nobody does. You have done nothing to earn this match either. You have nothing to add to this match. You, much like Knox, are a warm body to make my inevitable victory all the more impactful. You honestly be better off just going and rustling some cattle or whatever it is you do in your spare time besides fail. I mean, honestly, you win one match here and there and now you’re getting a championship match? It’s absurd and you know it better than anybody, Cowboy.

I remember the last time you said you didn’t respect me. You didn’t think anything of me, because you thought I ran my mouth off all the time, I’m just some punk and all that. And you know the bad part about the whole thing, Cowboy? Even you didn’t sound like you meant it. If you want me to think at least slightly higher of you, I’m gonna need you to actually get off your hay bail or whatever and stop drinking longnecks at the bar with all the other rednecks and actually make me believe. It’s not me who has anything to prove, Cowboy, it’s you. I’ve been better than the best for a long ass time around here, and I have used you as a stepping stone TWICE in order to cement that fact. You really think this time is going to be any different? I mean, seriously? What? You got momentum because you beat... uh... Helluva Bottom Carter? Is that it, Cowboy? You want me to respect that? Sorry, that’s not how this shit works. 
The fact is, you are not on my level. You never were. All this will be at Inception, is more proof to what I say. You wanna try and stop me? You better bring your fanciest pair of wrangler jeans and you line-dancing shoes, because it’s going to be a long night for you, Cowboy. 

 

Jack even gives a tip of an imaginary cap before again making a check mark with his fingers.

 

Jack: But then we get to the biggest piece of trash I may have ever laid my eyes on. Ken Davison. I don’t know how this shit happened, but you somehow won the world title? You? I mean, holy shit the standards have dropped around here. I mean, you beat the Cowboy, I don’t know who that says more about, you or him, and then Finn Whalen barely even put up a fight and you are walking around here like you’ve done something.  You have done zero, my guy. Just a complete shitshow is the only reason you are wearing my title. Hell, the only reason you even HAVE it, is because I wasn’t the champion either time. I haven’t even gotten a world title match since you won it, either time. What’s wrong, Ken? Were you trying to duck me? 

You were the one that thought it was funny to say “Jack Washington can’t keep my name out of his mouth” right? You have a golden opportunity the first time you fluked your way to a title win, and you could have said: “I’ll beat Jack Washington so he shut up about me”

But, you didn’t. Because you’re a bitch.

Or, because you understood the truth of the whole situation. If you faced me, one on one for the championship, I would have beaten your ass, exposed you yet again, and you would have been left stewing and serving up dad one-liners on twitter to your little group of friends, so you can giggle and high-five each other to make yourself feel better about just not being good enough.

And so, you had the smarts not to mention my name and try and make sure that somebody else had my attention so you could have had something to actually brag about achieving outside of not wrestling with a receding hairline. You could have had something there Ken, but now, it’s nothing. All there is left is a foregone conclusion. At Inception I will beat your ass, I will beat the Old man’s ass, and I will beat the Cowboy’s ass, and I’m gonna take back my title. 

The fact is, Ken, you are also a person who doesn’t belong here. Hell, you WOULDN’T have been in the match if you hadn’t won the title. You would have been doing something else, but now, you just happen to be the person who has the championship. 

That’s it, nothing more.

You know it, I know it, everybody else does too. It’s just going to be like when I took the Internet championship from you. Yeah, I took that from you, and I will make sure everyone knows that you are nothing but a fucking pretender at Inception. Just like I did before. Except this time, I’m going to do it for a bigger prize on probably a grander scale. 

It’s not that I hate you Ken, I just think you suck. You suck at this. You aren’t as good as me. In fact, nobody is, so you shouldn’t feel as bad as you probably do. I know you’re sitting there, biting your fingernails and wondering how badly you’re going to lose. But I’m here to stay, don’t worry man, I’m going to beat your ass, take my title back, and then I don’t need to hear from you. I don’t need to see you anymore. You can go home and be a family man or whatever and I will take my rightful place, at the top of the mountain. I will prove to you and everyone else, I am, what I say I am.

The face of this franchise.

 

Jack stands up, having finished what he wanted to say for now.

 

Jack: It’s all pretty simple. 3 pieces of trash, one superstar. That is nothing and nobody that’s gonna stop me from taking the SCW world title out of the pit of despair it’s in now. Nobody wants, or needs Ken Davison as champion. Matt Knox is basically a ghost he’s so old, and as for the Cowboy? How many times can we watch the same jackass in the same stupid cowboy hat fail over and over and fucking over again before we finally get the point that he’s not as good as advertised?

There is only one option at this point. As much as the SCW brass has tried to sweep me under the rug and try and give these other jackasses a chance to do something, they only LOOK like they can. This right here is the most interesting the SCW title picture has been in what? 6 months? A year? Pretty much since I had it. I had people gunning for me. I had people taking a hard look at where they stood Now? Now every looks and is just... “meh” And I will not stand for that kind of bullshit on my franchise.

That’s just how it works.. I will make the tough calls as champion. As the man who will lead this company into the future, it’s obvious that we need players, not pretenders, not aging vets on their last legs, and certainly not people who get the job and suck. Any team, any organization will tell you the same thing. They want winners. They want to win, and in order to win, you need to have the best players out there.

I AM THE BEST PLAYER ON THIS TEAM.

And I will prove it at Inception.

 

Jack shoos the camera away and sits back down, pantomiming a belt motion.

 

Cut to black.


Click.

 

Prologue:

Jack was unsuccesful his last appearance, losing a frustrating match to Finn Whalen. But this has not stopped Jack from still trying to reach the top once again. Jack again took some time to reflect before seeing his name etched on the card for High Stakes. Jack preapred to return to the ring in order to face Mac Bane, who has been on a tear in the past few months. Was there ring rust in Jack’s game against Finn? Would he be able to put it all together at High Stakes against an opponent of Mac’s caliber? 

 

Outside the ring, Jack continued to do a lot of relaxing, but there also has come the time for reflection during this period.  Jack went fishing for the first time in ages, he’s been able to take things slowly with the casino getting under control, and this has enabled Jack to really stop and ponder things. And now, he’s going to take it one step further.

--

Las Vegas Therapy

Las Vegas, NV.

 

He wasn’t nervous, but he certainly felt a different feeling in the pit of his stomach as he waited for his appointment time. The dead silence of the office bothered him. Then again, a lot of things bothered him. He waited patiently for his name to be called, but in a way, he didn’t. He really didn’t want to be here, but he knew he had to Go through with it. 

 

Receptionist: Mr. Washington, Dr. Linderman will see you now.

 

He stood up, took a deep breath, and marched forward. He raised his hand the tiniest bit to acknowledge the receptionist and moved past her as he opened the door to the hallway. The skinny doctor came up to greet Jack with his hand outstretched for a shake.

 

Dr. Linderman: Mr. Washington, nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Linderman, but you can call me Alex.

 

His hand was still outstretched, and Jack looked at it. Everything in his body said not to shake this man’s hand, because he always was taught that a handshake can be the first step to being set up. He just stared at it. 

 

“No.” he thought. “He’s a doctor, therapist, psychiatrist or whatever. There is no need to be so defensive.”

 

It was almost an uncomfortable amount of time but Jack did reach out his own hand to shake the Doctor’s. But the doctor simply smiled, and thought about touching Jack’s shoulder, but thought better of it.

 

Dr. Linderman: I see, I see, baby steps. No worries, come on back with me.

 

He led the way. Jack followed, wanting to break the habit of keeping a safe distance to avoid being attacked. He wanted to shake this kind of stuff off. Well, not completely, but at least somewhat. The door to the room was opened and Jack walked in, surveying the room instead of just sitting down.

 

Dr. Linderman: You can have a seat right on that couch there.

 

Jack studied the couch and sat down. He rubbed his snapped his fingers and clapped his hands, showing a clear sign of anxiety. Dr. Linderman closed the door and sat down.

 

Dr. Linderman: Mr. Washington, I just want to let you know this is a safe place. You don’t have to be nervous.

 

Jack: Is this where I lay back and tell you all my problems?

 

Dr. Linderman: You can. I mean, we’ve all got issues from time to time goodness knows I’ve had mine.

 

Jack: I’m not here to listen to your problems. I’m paying you to listen to me.

 

Dr. Linderman: I was just making a comparison, but point taken. 

 

Jack actually felt in control now. He leaned back on the couch in a more relaxed state.

 

Jack: So I guess, ask me some questions or whatever.

 

Dr. Linderman: Well, Why you tell me about yourself, and why you’re here.

 

Jack: I’m Jack. I’m the best professional wrestler on the planet. I have a casino that I run with my family. I can’t go back to my place of birth because shit my dad did has made most of my family shoot on sight. I’ve got another price on my head right out in Vegas from some Mexicans who want to kill me. I like long walks on the beach, fishing and I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.

 

Dr. Linderman paused. He was speechless for a few moments as Jack unloaded all this information and Dr. Linderman was unsure if Jack was actually joking or if any of that was true or not. He wrote some notes down and continued to say nothing for a long period of time.

 

Jack: Well, I guess I’m cured then.

 

Dr. Linderman held up his hand to pause Jack, who had started to get up.

 

Dr. Linderman: Just a moment please. I just have to ask... and I mean no disrespect when I ask this but... Is ANY of that true?

 

Jack: Of course it is. Why would I lie about it. I wouldn’t be here if I was just making up shit about my own life. Hell, I’d be much better off if I was just miserable. 

 

Dr. Linderman: And are you miserable?

 

Jack: I think I am. 

 

Dr. Linderman: How do you feel right now?

 

Jack: Like I shouldn’t be here, but I should be here. It’s weird. Like, I am on top of the world right now. Everything is going great, but... shit man, I already know that someday, somewhere, somebody from back home is going to come for me. And I can but protection, I can buy security, but something’s bound to happen. And I’m just the dude by proxy.

 

Dr. Linderman: You mentioned your dad, and that he... got you in trouble. Do you hate your dad for it? Does that make you feel miserable?

 

Jack: No. Part of me believes that my dad did the wrong thing, and the other part of me believes he did the right thing. There’s code and unspoken rules and all that. And when you take the oath to be part of the game, you’re part of the game forever. But really... are you? I guess you are, and that’s why he’s hated, and that’s why I’m hated now. 

 

Dr. Linderman: And you’re in the game now too?

 

Jack: I was in the game long before I really officially in the game.

 

--

Philadelphia, PA

10 years ago.

 

Trash, littered the streets. It was cold. Snow would be falling soon. An obviously younger Jack waited, far skinnier than he appears today. The “stick” nickname was apt at this point. He stood, one foot on the cement wall, heavy hoodie covering his torso and head. A beanie covered his ears. This is what he did. He stood on the corner and waited. He looked around, his hands deep in his pockets, the small baggie in his clenched fist. He obviously shouldn’t be on the streets as a 14 year old kid, but he was. His friend Bobby stood next to him, bundled up just as much as Jack was himself. He however, couldn’t stand still for more than a few seconds, he paced back and forth. It caught Jack’s attention, and annoyed him.

 

Jack: Knock it off.

 

Bobby: Where is this guy, man? I’m freezing my ass off out here.

 

Jack: Just wait.

 

It wasn’t longer than 5 minutes before the red Mercedes pulled up. Clearly out of place in this neighborhood. The window was rolled down. A hand motioned for them to come closer. Jack kept his distance, inching closer.

 

Jack: What are you looking for?

 

The large man in the passenger seat turned, and held up two fingers.  Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out two baggies. He held them up, and waited. The passenger waved to come closer and Jack looked at Bobby and nodded. He inched closer and started to hold out the baggies, but kept his distance.

 

Jack: You got what I’m looking for? 

 

The passenger nodded, Jack was pretty smart not to approach the car. The passenger reached into his wallet and pulled a wad of bills. The two exchanged at the same time. Transaction complete. The car drove away, Jack counted his money. Satisfied, he started to walk away, and Bobby followed closely behind him.

 

Bobby: How much?

 

Jack: $125. 

 

Bobby: Good shit man. 

 

The screeching halt of tires causes both of them to stop in their tracks, and then begin to sprint. Like a flash they were moving away from the car which by this time was turned around. They hopped fences and ducked through back alleyways. Breaking the line of sight, they stopped, only to catch their breath. 

 

Bobby: Got ‘em again.

 

Jack: Easy money.

 

He had sold them imitation product. Clearly not what they wanted and Jack got one over on them. Jack’s phone rang. He looked down at it, smirking to himself.

 

Jack: Go. Another job? Okay we’ll hit that place up.

 

Jack hung up the phone. It was like this for his life. Life on the street making money, but he wasn’t doing much with his life. It was petty cash to people like his dad. But he wanted his father’s respect more than anything. But this is the way it was.

 

--

Las Vegas Therapy

Las Vegas, NV.

 

Dr Linderman: And that’s how it started?

 

Jack: That’s the way it was for a long time. I mean, I know, I wasn’t the best person in the world when I was younger, but I was doing what I had to do. Sometimes what you have to do isn’t nice and neat and all that. Sometimes it’s rough and screwing another person over. Does that make me a bad person?

 

Dr. Linderman: I don’t know Jack. Do you think it makes you a bad person? 

 

Jack: I don’t know. I haven’t killed anybody. I haven’t just fucked over a random person because I felt like it. I just... did what I had to do. Where they shitty things sometimes? Yes. I’m not the nicest person in the world, but man I never did anything to anybody that didn’t have it coming.

 

Dr. Linderman: I feel like we’re going to need more sessions. We’re just scratching the surface of what could be there.

 

--

 



 

Click.

 

Jack is pacing, his dander is up. He looks more annoyed than usual. Pacing around in his home with the camera shooting him.

 

Jack: I can’t believe this. This is just utter disrespect, and I should file a formal complaint about this ridiculousness. It’s just really fucking sad that we have to go to these lengths, SCW. You could have just told the truth, and we all could have been much, much better off. But no, we have to lie to people, we have to just make shit up and make everybody feel all warm and fuzzy inside or whatever. I was just hoping after all this time that you guys could get this right, and it would make me feel, at least, a little more respected than I am now. But just when I take the time off, and give other people a chance to shine, what do they do? A big old handful of nothing. And you know it, SCW. You know it, and in order to make yourself feel better, you have lied.

 

Where in the fuck do you all get off calling Mac Bane GREAT?

 

Great? Great my ass, SCW! What are you kidding me? What the hell makes Mac Bane great? What has he done, that I haven’t?  He never faced stiff competition. For God sake the man won the SCW world title from garbage ass Alex Jones. He won it from Old man Matthew Knox. But let’s throw a parade for the jackasses who have hot potatoed the biggest championship in the game. And you have the outright audacity to call the man great? I am insulted by the fucking paring of the words “Mac Bane” and “great” in the same sentence. They shouldn’t be in the same paragraph, or fucking essay, let alone used to describe him. Knock that shit off SCW, you should be better than that.

 

Where is all the praise for me? Why am I not called “Great”? What haven’t I done? What feat did I not accomplish? What? Was my domination of the main event in 2021 not good enough? Was my stranglehold on the SCW Internet championship not good enough? Why am I being treated like some flash in the pan? I have destroyed people left and right, and it’s like when I took a break to recharge my batteries so I could come back and beat even more people, and do it more convincingly than I was already doing, it’s like everybody forgot who the hell I was. You all acted like I never existed, and you’re calling Mac Bane great? 

 

Give me a break.

 

Jack stops, sneers and continues to pace, a disrespectful sniff to the air.

 

Jack: Look here Cowboy, I don’t give a damn what you’ve done. You are not great. You’re not even close to it. You have done nothing to impress me. You lost the world title to Ken Davison of all people. He sucks. And so that means you suck. You might even suck worse. And while you’re busy getting your ass kicked, your little girlfriend or whatever got ran outta here and here you are, sticking around and trying to get all the glory because let’s just face it Cowboy, she overshadows you in every way. You ain’t nothing, man. And they have the fucking tamarity to call you great. Get the fuck outta here with that bullshit.

 

See, the thing is Cowboy, everything I just said, it may make you mad, you may want to tear my head off and you may want to kick my ass and everything else. I’m pushing every button I want to, because you and I both know that I can push those buttons, because they are the truth. You can look into my eyes right now Cowboy, and you know I’m telling the truth. I don’t lie, or make up shit about you, it’s all right there. You can look at me like I’m the worst person in the world, but what you really need to do is look in the mirror. Because the guy staring back at you is the same guy that I just ran down in a matter of seconds.  You are a three-time SCW world champion, and if you were as good as everybody makes you out to be, you would have never lost the damn thing in the first place to Matthew Knox. Who is Matt Knox? And you certainly shouldn’t have lost to Ken Davison. You would still be the champion right now. If you were good enough, you would still be carrying around that title, and the fact is, you aren’t. You aren’t carrying shit. I would say, the only thing you are carrying these days are your girlfriend’s bags, but she isn’t even around anymore. Much like your little group of friends. They left you too. I’m seeing the pattern, Cowboy. People cozy up to you because they think you can take them places, and at the end of the day, most of them smarten up and leave you high and dry because you are basically the human equivalent of Fool’s gold.

 

You don’t have to like the things I say and do, Cowboy. It doesn’t bother me what you say about me. I’ve gladly accepted that in this business, I’m just gonna be the guy who has the say the things that need to be said, and I’m not here to make friends and have a group of cronies or hangers on. I say what I say, because I can back it up in the ring. Everything I’ve ever said in front of these cameras is 100% real. It’s me, Cowboy. And as it stands right now, you are a poodle trying to bark at an elephant. You are fighting a battle you cannot win, my guy. You are trying to come at me, when you know, just like everyone else, on this microphone, I am UNTOUCHABLE. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say, and all I do is spit the truth. I am the face of this franchise, and you know it.  You don’t scare me, Cowboy. You are nothing to me, no matter what you have done. And I know that from the experience I have with you.

 

Jack wags his finger, still annoyed, but a chuckle, an angry chuckle, but a chuckle still escapes him.

 

Jack: Oh yeah, Cowboy, I remember it like it was yesterday when you tried me. You thought you were hot shit just that short time ago, with your little group and your little ego, and you came up against me, and I warned you then, didn’t I? Oh yeah, I warned your ass, that you can take this L, and then you can avoid anything else, because people like me, are not a problem that people like you really want. You are one of those people, Cowboy. I warned you that this beef is not something you wanted.  And to your credit, when you took the L like I said you would, when you walked away with your tail between your legs, you didn’t cause a problem. I assumed there was hope for you by staying out of my way. 

 

And this is the thanks I get for assuming. I guess the old saying is true.

 

You now stand here and you must know this is yet another L coming for you, right? I mean, you might be a shit-kicking Cowboy and whatever else Cowboy’s do, but you’re not the biggest idiot in the world. Right? I mean, I guess by default you’re not since there’s still certain people who think even more dumbass things are the truth. But I’m telling you this now because it has to be occuring to you in your head that you are about to lose yet again to me. I mean, you can rest in the comfort that a lot of people lose to me. Because I’m an ELITE talent. I am just that good, and you know I'm telling you the truth. I wiped the floor with the competition here, and they’ve had to recruit people to come here, and continually give a 50 year old man multiple chances because he was the best they could come up with. And he’s already lost the damn title. They just don’t have people like me around anymore Cowboy.

 

I am on an entirely other level, Cowboy. Those people calling you great, they’re just feeding you ego. And I’m going to be the one who shuts that conversation down real quick. You can call me an asshole, because that’s what I am. I never claimed to be a hero or even a good-hearted person. I don’t need that shit, I never did. I just want what I deserve. I’m out for me. I don’t need anybody watching my back, because they’re just looking for a good place to stick the knife. I’m sure you’re aware of how that feels. But the fact is, if you are considered great, I should be considered the GreatEST. Period.

 

Jack once again resumes the sneer on his face as he thinks about finishing this up.

 

Jack: At High Stakes, I’m not going to “use you as a steppingstone” as the match preview tries to throw out there Cowboy. I don’t need to use you as a steppingstone. I’ve already stepped over you. And I’ve been above you this entire time. It still pisses me off to no end that I take a break for a little bit and everybody loses their minds like I don’t exist. Maybe because they don’t want me to exist. And I know you won’t want me to exist after High Stakes, Cowboy. Because I’m going to beat you, yet again, and then, just maybe the people running this show will actually put some goddamn respect on my name! 

 

It must be that’s what I have to do in order for people to stop acting like I’ve already fallen off or peaked. Talking about me like I’m trying to regain my spot. No, you have it all wrong. I’m not regaining a spot, that shit is RESERVED for me. I don’t care how long I take a vacation for, I can walk into any match and beat the shit out of anybody who tries me. Will me doing this to the Cowboy actually grab your attention? Because I better get a god damn formal apology from the people in SCW for trying to act like I’m not THAT FUCKING GUY.  You talk about Mac Bane as if he is the second coming. You talk about him, as if I don’t exist. Did I not already handle this dude? Did I not already clear out multiple divisions? Did I not do this shit faster than practically anybody? Where is my respect?

 

You know what? After High Stakes, after I beat the Cowboy again, you all better start calling me great. No, as a matter of fact, you don’t need to call me great, you need to call me what I fucking am: The Face of this Franchise. Acknowledge my goddamn greatness! Sing my praises! What’s wrong with me? Huh? Don’t call me “a talented young star” That shit is insulting. I am the BEST. You never wanted to say it out loud, but you knew it deep down, so guess what? After I beat the stupid fucking Cowboy that you’re calling great, you’re going to say that shit out loud. 

 

I am Jack Washington. The Face of this Franchise. And you will put some fucking respect on my name. 

 

Jack stares into the camera and we fade out.

 

Click.

 

Prologue:

Jack was unsuccessful in his 2nd title defense against Goth, and is now a former Internet champion. Jack was pretty miserable the entire cruise anyway, spending a week away from the safety of his home and his casino, and forced to spend time with people, which obviously didn’t sit well with him. Jack is not known as a people person, and now that he was an ex-champion, the ridicule came his way the entire way back to land. People are now wondering what’s next for Jack as he has been radio silent for quite some time regarding his status, and he’s now got to worry about facing Alexander Raven this week on Climax Control. The questions about Jack continue to pile up, and now a bigger question is, is Jack actually ready to return to the ring and will he be up to the task of facing Alexander Raven, or will this begin a downward spiral for him?

 

Even though he was on the cruise, before he left, he gave his brother specific instructions now to make any major changes or do anything to cause any sort of disruption with the casino and the alliances and partnerships Jack kept going. But knowing his brother was prone to have some explosive outbursts and often flat out ignored him, Jack told Bobby, his right hand man and most trust ally, to watch over Jason and ensure this was the case. However, shortly before Jack lost the champion, he was informed by Bobby that Jason did attempt to fire Danny, the commisoner’s son, despite Jack making a promise that he would have no issues with Danny. Now Jack is forced to set that straight, and try and pick up the pieces to whatever Jason had done while he was gone.

 

--

Washington Estate

Las vegas, NV

Three weeks ago.

 

Jack returned home. He was in a sour mood and not happy at all. He almost kicked in the door to his house, finding it empty for the time being. And so, he waited. He waited for a long time, and his anger was boiling over. He had people he needed to yell at, vent to, scream his head off to, and none of them were around. And so, he paced. He paced back and forth and could have dug a trench with the amount of time he was doing so. 

 

Finally, Brian came through the door, spotting Jack out of the corner of his eye, sitting in his recliner, but his feet weren’t exactly kicked up. He sat in the chair fully, hands and fingers practically digging into the arm rest. Brian eyed him for a few seconds, before he went over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle and a shot glass. He put two ice cubes in the glass and poured himself a whiskey before taking a sip, and then motioned to Jack.

 

Brian: Well... out with it.

 

Jack stood up and walked briskly over to Brian, nearly getting into her personal space.

 

Jack: Why didn’t you do anything?

 

Brian: What exactly do you want me to do, Stick?

 

Jack: You know how he is, and you know he’ll go too far and he fucking did.

 

Brian: You put his name on the paper, he owns the Casino when you aren’t here. I can only advise him, I can’t stop him from doing anything.

 

Jack: DON’T GIVE ME THAT SHIT, BRIAN!

 

Brian: Will you clam down?!

 

Jack: No, I will not calm down! I don’t like people fucking with my money! That’ what I don’t like. It makes me upset. Doesn’t it make you upset that Jason can fuck up the thing we have going where nobody is bothering us now? For the first time since we’ve been here, after dealing with the Mexicans, dealing with Sonny, and dealing with Jason and Benny, we were finally sitting pretty. Did you not see that?

 

Brian: Yeah, I saw it, but that’s how the world works, Stick, there’s only so much you can get away with before another problem comes along. 

 

Jack: We could be doing so much better than we are now, Brian. Where the fuck is Jason anyway?

 

Brian: He’s on his way.

 

Jack: Good. 

 

Jack sat back down, waiting for another long period of time, not saying anything to Brian, who tried a few times to speak to Jack, but he would hear none of it. Finally, it was Jason’s turn to come through the door. He was loud and boisterous as he saw his brother.

 

Jason: Jack! What’s up bro! How was the trip.

 

Jack: Why are you fucking with things around here Jason?

 

Jason: Whoa, calm down bro. I didn’t -

 

Jack: Then why am I getting messages from people telling me you’re trying to fire Danny?

 

Jason held up his hands, but also seemed annoyed.

 

Jason: I didn’t fire him, okay? I was.... I was going to, because I told you before he’s bad news and he’s going to fuck something up and we’re going to pay the price for it. That’s what I said, and I stand on that. But I didn’t fire him.

 

Jack: That kid, is the commissioner's son. Do you not get that? That will make our lives 100% easier knowing that we’re doing him a favor.

 

Jason: But we’re not doing anything that we need to hide, Jack. We’re legit.

 

Jack: You had our guys break the guy’s hand, they were going to sue us for that.

 

Jason: They shouldn’t try and cheat. That’s what we do to cheaters. Jack, bro... this is supposed to be about us, the Washington brothers. Our time, our name. And this is supposed to be our city. We should be in control of it, and make sure that people back home don’t get bright ideas about coming out here.

 

Jack sighed.

 

Jack: How in the FUCK are we supposed to do that Jay? I can’t trust you for 5 minutes let alone a fucking WEEK without you making some crazy decision and trying to fuck up everything we built because you think you have to prove yourself or some shit. IT’S ENOUGH. I CANNOT have this happen, WE cannot have this happen. Do yo understand? You cannot just try and take over when we’re the little dogs here. We don’t have an army, we don’t have the numbers. We have to bide our time and make shit happen. And firing the commissioner’s son gets us LOOKED AT. Maybe pressed down on a little bit. Don’t fuck up a good thing, Jason. JUST. DON’T.

 

Jason: You really have to trust me on some things man. I’m not doing these things because I want to. I’m doing them for us.

 

Jack: JUST. FUCKING. DON’T. If I see or hear that you do some shit like this ever again, you are GONE, do you understand me? FUCKING GONE. I don’t care that you’re my brother. You’re starting to abuse that. This is it, Jay. You even straighten up and help me, or you can get the fuck out of the office, out of this house and out my LIFE. I’ve had it with you! I didn’t want you in this game, but I let you in. 

 

Jason: You gonna take me out of it, bro?

 

Jack gets into Jason’s face.

 

Jack: If I have to. For your sake, and for mine. This is a new start, right here, right now. Are you with me? Or against me?

 

Jack holds out his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, Jason accepts.

 

Jason: You got it, Bro.

 

--


Click:

 

Despite what would be a sour mood, Jack actually seems more chipper than usual. There’s still the trademark scowl and general unpleasant look on his face, but he paces not with anger, but with seeming excitement.

 

Jack: I suppose you all had a good fucking laugh didn’t you? Hey, I’ll be the first one to call a spade a spade, I lost at Summer XXXtreme, on a boat, which I didn’t want to be on, facing an opponent I’ve already beaten before, in a match that I didn’t like. But, at the end of the day, I lost. Does that make you happy? Are you all happy about that? Because you know what? I am now. I am fucking thrilled about it. No more old man Goth to deal with. I don’t care what he does with the championship, I don’t care if he has it for the rest of his life, which shouldn’t be long anyway, but the fact is, He’s out of my life right now. I no longer have to worry about this fucking guy constantly trying to fight me. It’s why I am so thrilled. I no longer have to deal with this dude. Because I don’t need to try and earn some rematch against him or try and wrestle him again. I was so tired of dealing with him in the first place that this may be one of the best things to happen to my career. 

 

I am no longer saddled with dealing with this old man over and over and constantly getting championship matches. It was sad the first time, and even worse the second time. I just got no time for people like that anymore. That was boring. It was draining my life away. I want to live for a long time, and having an old man drain your essence isn’t a good look. It wears on you, that’s really what happened. The man just wore me out and I’m just so over it now. Now I can take the god damn shackles off my career.

 

Oh yes, I am FREE now. And you know what that makes me? DANGEROUS. I am no longer sitting with a championship and trying to fend off the same old person 40 times. Now, I can do what I want, target who I want, and that’s bad news for a lot of people. Yeah, I’ve taken a few weeks off, because I am going to pick and choose who I want to dismantle. I’ve been doing it the entire time I have been in SCW and that is a fact. Nobody in this game can do what I do. SCW has sent its legends, its champions, and every single one of them get smacked down by me. Why? Because I can do it better than anyone else. I have already beat down so many people, that it’s a complete shock to me that anyone even bothers trying to verbally come at me. If it’s not someone claiming to a god, or someone claiming to be one with god, or someone trying to re-live their glory days, it’s someone just boring the shit out of me, because they cannot compete with me, in or out of the ring. And now, I can choose whoever I want to take out, because eventually, whether it’s the Cowboy, or some other schmuck, I will get back the SCW world championship and take my spot once again at the top. Because that’s what franchise players do. They sustain greatness. And that’s all I’ve done, since I got here.

 

Jack points at himself to emphasize the point. He also makes the belt motion around his waist for double the impact.

 

Jack: But anyway, let’s get to the yet another person who has done nothing but bore the shit out of me since I had to suffer through listening to him talk. Alexander Raven. Right? That’s his name, sure, whatever. Every time this man is on TV, I wonder if it’s just the people at SCW letting a grown man get his mommy issues out. It’s like one of those Emo kids spouting fucking poetry. He needs a god damn beret at this point. I bet you his facebook profile picture is him and it’s in black and white, and he’s looking off in the distance because he wants to make you think he’s deep. I’m just so over this type of shit, why did it not die with My Chemical Romance and HIM or whatever other fucking stupid music was around in 2007. If it’s not some dumb shit like that, it’s preaching like he should be on some gospel channel at 3am when people are half drunk and high and can’t be bothered to change the channel when he comes on. It’s ridiculous just how much time people like this Raven dude spend just trying to act deep and thought provoking. Let’s talk about the subconscious mind and the human spirit and all this all bullshit that just tells me that he watched the fucking Matrix movies one time too many and decided to pick of a philosophy book and believes he actually understands shit.

 

Again, If I was drunk, or high, maybe I’d actually listen to what Alexander Raven actually is taking about, but a lot of it just fucking gibberish that stupid people listen to and because they don’t know any better, they think this person has some sort of secret or he’s got it all figured out. 

 

Alexander, you have nothing figured out, besides how to sound like a complete douchebag each and every time you are on a screen. That’s pretty much it. You may confuse people around here, or people who don’t give the proper effort in order to actually beat you. You beat some scrubs and you think it makes you something. I mean, Bill Barnhart? Miles Kasey? Max Burke? I mean, man that is a certain a “who’s that?” list of wrestlers isn’t it? But I am not one of those people Alexander Raven. Oh no, I see through bullshit, and you have been spewing it the entire time and maybe, after This Sunday, you will not be as stupid as you sound. I will do my damnedest to knock some sense into you, so you stop sounding lick a beatnik or whatever. I keep imagining someone playing a fucking bongo while you’re talking. That shit needs to stop.

 

Jack shakes his head, the old disgust is back.

 

Jack: But then again, maybe I should expect this kind of shit from someone who goes out in public and calls himself Alexander Raven. Why is it that people just can’t have names like a normal person? I get it, sometimes, you gotta live who you are, but you know what Alexander Raven screams to me? Someone who is just a fraud. Someone who’s boring and trying to make up for their lack of personality. You are a grown ass man, but you sit on street corners or in the middle of the fucking woods as if that’s supposed to mean something. It means nothing, Alexander. Not a damn thing. Just that you want to set these moody venues and act like it’s different. If I wanted to go out into the damn desert in Nevada, does it have some kind of hidden meaning to you? Does it make me more sophisticated that way then doing something in my house? Shit like that just screams of someone trying too hard to be something they are not. It’s would be funny, if it wasn’t so sad.

 

You are the kind of person that gets roasted in youtube comments and shit. You’re the person that gets made fun of over and over again by the Internet. All because you just aren’t interesting enough to come along on your own merits. You can’t be Steve Wilson or whatever your actual name is, because Steve Wilson is boring as shit and gets no bitches and plays Dungeons and Dragons and goes around fucking LARPing and shit. This is the kind of person you are man. I wonder sometimes how people like you can look at themselves in the mirror each and every day and think “Yup, I’ve got this.” No, you don’t Alexander. You really, really don’t. You think this stupid poetry think you’re doing is really something. Let me tell you, nothing is worse than phony. 

 

I don’t have to have that problem. People call me an asshole, it’s because I am. Because call me cocky, arrogant, smug, a dickhead, and everything under the sun, but you know what they don’t call me, Alexander? FAKE. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say. I don’t need this stupid fake ass haiku’s and shit to get my point across. You’ve understood every word that has come out of my mouth haven’t you? I don’t need to mince words or attempt to confuse you. Now Alexander, I make it plain as day. I don’t dance around the issues. I will call you out on your bullshit every single time. Because that’s who I am. If you didn’t know, you better ask somebody.

 

Jack smirks at his dated joke, but the effect is still there.

 

Jack: So, you know, when I tell you I’m going to beat your stupid ass in India, I think you understand where I’m coming from. I don’t need to write down my inner personal thoughts and make it sound more dramatic than it is. An ass-kicking is an ass-kicking and on Sunday, you will be on the receiving end of that. And then, that will be that. I will move on to something bigger and better, because the last thing I want is a god damn monologue about your feelings or your personal demons or whatever makes you have the sad, sad life you do. I’m cool on that Alexander. Because if I have to listen to the bullshit you spew any more after a solid 5 days of trying to find something interesting, I’m going to just throw up. I mean, you’re on my screen, talking, I get up and make myself a sandwich, I come back, you’re still talking. I count my money in the machine, you’re still talking, and all it means exactly nothing. It’s background noise, it’s white noise while I go do more important things with my time. So the reality is, I don’t know what the hell you’re about, because I couldn’t be bothered to listen when I’m hearing things like “I’m trapped in my own hell”. 

 

I mean, Jesus man, could you not? Could you please spare me and everyone else who are trying to get by and deal with their own problems, the need to take on yours. Do you need a hug, my guy? A person to pay you on the back and tell you everything is going to be okay? Well, you will not find that shit here. I don’t need to give you anything but this ass-whooping and you can take it, and then go back to spouting off silly poetry and pretending you are someone you are not. It’s just that simple, Alexander. I don’t need to bore you with a monologue, I just spit the facts.

 

If you, or anyone else was praying for my downfall, or that I wasn’t going to be just as hungry or just as good as when I was the champion, you are in for a rude awakening. No, it’s not me who has anything to prove, it’s you Alexander. You have to show everybody that you are capable of running with the top of the food chain in SCW, instead of being a big fish in a small pond. I came here and I went STRAIGHT to the top, Alexander. You have settled and this is the reason you are where you are, and I am where I am. At Climax Control Alexander, you will find out first hand why I am the face of this franchise, I’m going to show you exactly what I can talk all the shit I want around here, because there is nothing and nobody that can stop me. People like you were waiting for me to fall down to your level, but like a basketball, I bounce right back up. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do at Climax Control, bounce back, and remind everyone just who the hell I am.

 

And you, will be just another victim I take out.

 

Jack Washington is back baby!

 

And with that, we cut to black.

 

Click.
 

Prologue:

Jack was successful in his latest title defense, finally avenging the loss to Senor Vinnie earlier in the year, and retaining his championship. It may have been with a little outside distraction, but anyone who knows Jack, knows that doesn’t rely on anyone for help, and he would never ask for it. But also, Jack isn’t about to not take it when it happens in his favor. Unfortunately for Jack, he now has to defend the Internet championship in a rematch against a man who took him to the limit at Into the Void, Goth. Goth scored a win over Ken Davison and now Jack prepares to face the veteran again.

 

Outside the ring, Jack finally was able to hire Comissioner Ted Anderson’s son Danny, although Jason was not happy with it. The argument ensued and Jack was able to convince Jason to let it slide, and understand the ramifications of the hire. But there is no question that Jason is still a ticking time bomb if he is left unsupervised, which is exactly what’s about to happen when Jack leaves for this cruise...

 

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV

 

Jack had just finished his workout, and a shower for that fresh feeling. He sat himself down in his recliner, turning on the massager to help with his recovery. He saw Brian coming towards him, as he closed his eyes, but had to re-open them once he felt Brian close to him.

 

Jack: What is it now?

 

Brian: You gonna talk to him?

 

Jack: Who? 

 

Brian: Your brother. 

 

Jack: What’s he done now?

 

Brian: Nothing. Yet.

 

Jack sighs

 

Jack: I’ve already set him straight on things. He should be good. 

 

Brian: You know he’s gonna forget them, either by choice or by accident. You know that.

 

Jack: So why don’t you talk to him?

 

Brian: He ain’t my brother.

 

Jack: No, you left your brother. My dad, in jail. TO FUCKING DIE.

 

Brian: You dad turned his back on everything we had. And... And I’m seeing it beginning to happen again.

 

Jack sits up in his chair.

 

Jack: Why do you have to say things like that?

 

Brian: Look, me and your dad, it wasn’t always great, but it wasn’t always bad either. I admit I had a hand in some of that, but I see it here, and I don’t want it to happen.

 

Jack: It’s bit late for that, isn’t it? I never wanted Jay to be in this in the first place. You were right there with him on that, Brian.

 

Brian: I know... I thought that maybe this could be different. Have you two do what your dad and I didn’t finish.

 

Jack: And yet, you’re talking to me, and not to him. You said he was going to do something, so you tell me now. Why is it up to me?

 

Brian: Because he’s your brother, and you have the ability to change everything if you just do it. Look, I ain’t the best person in the world, I admit that, but you know your brother has done some shit that isn’t great, but some of it has been. If you, can get through to him and make it clear, maybe we can avoid anything crazy happening. 

 

Jack looked at Brian slightly annoyed as he stood up and then grabbed his keys, and wallet before sighing.

 

Jack: Sometimes I hate it when you make sense.

 

Brian: I’m just saying, it could be something that makes the change all the more real.

 

Jack: I’m going to do this, but not because you think it’s the right thing to do, I’m trying to make sure this casino gets where it needs to go, and the Washington name holds weight here in Vegas, and my brother doesn’t fuck it up.

 

Brian: That’s all I ask.

 

Jack sneered at Brian before he departed.

 

--

Grand Flamingo Casino

Las Vegas, NV

 

Jack drove like a madman to get to the casino, and he entered it almost paranoid. But, at a glance, nothing was going on out of the ordinary. Regular customers, nothing that would make Jack worry, but for some reason, he was. He took the service elevator to the meet up with Jason, who sat in the manager’s office, looking at the cameras and slowly turning around to see Jack enter.

 

Jason: Oh, hey bro.

 

Jack: We need to talk, Jay.

 

Jason: Talk about what? You finally come to your senses and you’re going to fire that Danny dude?

 

Jack: I can’t fire him.

 

Jason: And you won’t let me fire him. I’m telling you he’s gonna mess things up.

 

Jack: I already told you he’s the commissioner's son. You know how bad that’s gonna look if he just gets fired after working here for this short amount of time? The commissioner will be on our ass!

 

Jason: We could handle it, if you let me.

 

Jack: You’re going to start more of a problem than you’ve already started!

 

Jason stares at Jack.

 

Jason: Are you saying I’m the problem now?

 

Jack: YOU KNOW YOU’RE THE PROBLEM JASON! FUCK!

 

Jason: WHAT?!

 

Jack: Don’t... Don’t play dumb with me, Jay. Okay, Fucking shit dude, you’ve caused problems, and I don’t need those problems, and nobody in this casino needs those problems, I have tried, desperately, to keep you out of trouble. I’ve tried REALLY, REALLY FUCKING HARD, JASON. 

 

Jason: You... you really think that about me? I thought... I thought we were cool man?

 

Jack: You want cool? Don’t try and fucking kill people around here. Don’t start wars we don’t have the means to fight! Don’t try and pick a fight with the FUCKING COMMISIONER! JESUS CHRIST JAY! I’m trying to keep your head above water just like mine! 

 

Jason: We’re supposed to be in this together.

 

Jack: LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU WHAT WE ARE, JAY. You know how bought this shit? ME. You know you have this place built up? ME! I did that shit, and I put that Washington name here! You?! You are my brother and you have come in and made this shit a mess. And part of that is my fault. I will admit to it. But you cannot be serious right now by trying to tell me that you are going to make things better. It’s the whole fucking reason I came here.

 

Jason: For me?

 

Jack: Because I need you to promise me Jay, that you won’t fuck it up when I’m not here. It’s as simple as that. I have to literally worry, while I’m thousands of miles away, then you won’t burn this mother fucking casino to the ground while I’m gone! That’s the kind of shit I have to worry about. I needed this, because I’m making a plea to you, right now, Jay...

 

Jason: ...

 

Jack: I need you to help me. I know you’ve done some good. I know you have and that’s good. I respect that, and I thank you for all the hard work you’ve done. But you have to not fuck this up while I’m gone.

 

Jason: Yeah...

 

Jack: Just... fucking say it!

 

Jason: I won’t fuck it up.

 

Jack: Good. Good.

 

There is a long period of the tension finally somewhat being released. Jack and Jason finally shake hands and Jack pats him on the shoulder.

 

Jack: I love you, bro.

 

Jason: I love you too, man.

 

Jack finally leaves, seemingly having gotten everything off his chest, but as soon as he is in the elevator he pulls out his phone and dials.

 

Jack: Bobby. Listen... I need you to do me a favor...

 

--

 


 

Click

 

Jack once again is with us, pacing, with the SCW Internet championship slung over his shoulder. His face once again reads as one of confusion.

 

Jack: I don’t know why this just continues to be a thing. I’m just over this all the way, up to level 100 and yet, it still keeps happening. I guess I’m just cursed at this point. Maybe we all are. I mean, for fucks sake the Saviors have been nothing but garbage this entire time, like I said they were from the jump, and yet, they keep popping up. Coming out of the woodwork like a god damn cockroach. They just refuse to die and I’m just getting sick and tired of it. I was hoping against hope that something, ANYTHING would come along and kill the boredom and the fatigue I feel from this. It’s getting ridiculous now. How many goddamn times do we have to do this? When will the Saviors do us all a favor and just go away?

 

I’m just so sick of it. I beat Goth’s ass last Supercard. I beat dumb ass Vinnie a couple of weeks ago, I have smashed every single person who has come and tried to take this championship from me, and I was hoping, maybe we’d get somebody new. Someone will some fire and drive, somebody who actually is worth a shit, but no, after I beat Vinnie’s dumb ass a couple of weeks ago and low and behold, they trot out, not only Goth AGAIN, but Ken Davison... AGAIN. Like for fucks sake people, is this where we are now? It’s is just a carousel of these losers over and over. I feel like I’m taking crazy pills or something. We’re trotting out the same old broken-down War Horse I already handled before.

 

Like, what are we even doing here? I just tired of dealing with the Saviors. I mean, I thought at least for a second there, that perhaps, at least it would be somewhat new having to face Ken Davison again, but no, Ken Davison proves yet again, no one should be any faith whatsoever into him, because he sucks so bad that he left some broken down codger beat him and take a championship opportunity from him. It’s really, really sad. This is the state the Saviors are in right now, they just continue to fail time and time again at doing anything impressive or important. I mean, at least when the Cowboy was the leader he actually was a champion, but he still sucks. Ken Davison has sucked forever, and I don’t even know where the big goofy masked guy went, and now... for fucks sake Goth again? I mean, GOTH is the most successful person in your entire group? I think you really need to re-evaluate your talent line up. 

 

Do I really need to do this again? Waste my time with a has-been trying to recapture his lost fading glory. The man who continues to trot himself out, like one of those guys who just can’t let it go? Like, does Goth drive an old Trans AM to complete his mid-life crisis at this point? The guy is hanging out and having sex with some chick that he’s like 3 decades older than. He’s got the long hair tied back, slicked back and shit, he’s trying to recapture his youth. He’s probably riding a harley and he’s going to grow a fucking beard at some point too, in order to let you know how cool he is. 

 

And he’s running his mouth about me?

 

Jack scoffs, and it turns into an incredulous laugh. As if he cannot believe this is happening. After catching himself, he continues.

 

Jack: Okay buddy, you are a walking cliché. You are what everyone thinks of when they think “Mid-life crisis” that’s you, right now, and I mean, I almost admire how much you are owning it right now, but your picture is in the dictionary next to the term. And here you again, talking shit about me, like this time it’s going to be different. This time you will take this championship from me, because you got your girl, your motorcycle, your t-bird, probably some barbed wire tattoo or some shit. You think that this is going to be different and things are going to change for you. Why Goth? Why do you think this?

 

Do you think that because I got a “cheap” win that it means you were close to beating me? Is that it? I don’t give a rat’s ass about how I win a match Goth. By hook, or by crook. I get the job done. Because a win means more money in my pocket. That’s all that it is about for me. I can say that will a smile on my face, because people like you, they hate it. People like you, old timers, getting their dentures all jumbled because I do this, for the money and fame. I don’t have the “passion”, right? My passion is the money and fame that comes along with kicking the shit out of old broken-down has-beens like you, Goth. That’s what I do, and I’m damn proud of it. 

 

I have taken on the mantle of Face of the Franchise not only because it’s clever marketing and that shit makes me money, but because it’s the truth. Now, I’m sure back in the 1870’s or 80’s that you were a big deal, but that time has long since passed. You’re one of these guys that can’t let it go, still clinging hard to that last little bit of spotlight.  You should be in a VFW or bingo hall somewhere hawking merch and 8x10’s of you in your glory years. It may not be in color, but still, it’ll be worth something to somebody’s grandfather or something, right? The point is, people like you, right now, do not belong in the same ring with me, Goth. You know this, and I know this. You’re just trying to wrestle on bonus time. You are just lucky that Ken Davison sucks worse than you. This isn’t some prize or great victory for you, this is a one-way trip, back to the bottom of the barrel. It’s just that simple, Goth. Because I’m really fucking tired of you constantly showing up and thinking that this is going to be your day.

 

It’s really not. Those days are over. Long since passed. This is my time, and I would very much just like you to get out of the way, and stop thinking that things will be different. This is like the Harlem Globetrotters vs. The Washington Generals. You are just here, to make me look as good as I truly am. You are a stepping stone, Goth. Apparently, I just have to do this shit twice because you keep coming back with your stupid face and hair and everything else. At Summer XXXtreme, it is officially time for you to stop.

 

Jack takes a deep sigh, and raises his eyebrows to emphasize his next point.

 

 

Jack: This is it, Goth. This is where the ride is going to end for you. I have had to say this to a couple of people now, and I’m just adding your name to that list. I’m tired of you. I’m tired of you trying to come at me and try and take my championship because you just no business being in the ring with me. I’m tired of seeing your stupid face and greasy hair and your dumb tattoos on your wrinkly ass skin. I’m just tired of this whole thing. How many times are we going to have to do this before you learn that what I’m telling you in the truth and you just need to accept it? That’s what I do, Goth. I tell the truth and it’s becoming very sad and annoying to me that people like you won’t listen, and have to be made examples of.

 

If people like you would just listen to me, and understand that I don’t just say things to say them, I say them, because they are facts. But no, you have to be stubborn, don’t you Goth? You have to try and have that one last run or whatever. To try and just recapture the lost glory and have that last moment in the sun. Why are you trying to do this, Goth? Why are you just coming back time and time again, only to be beaten and sent packing over and over? Are you one of those masochists? Do you just enjoy the pain and humiliation of being a walking joke and failing over and over? I’m not here to kink shame anybody, but come on now Goth, you have to know deep down that you are simply overmatched.

 

This match will be exactly the same as the last time. You will be humbled and you will learn that I am everything I say I am. I am the face of this franchise, the star player. You are some just old-timer at the end of his rope, and really, you should be happy to ride the bench while I go out there and lead the team to victory. You should be watching me, praising me, and telling me how great I am, and be happy to be along for the ride into a new era. But no, not you Goth. Of course not. You’re going to try and take my job. Try and take things from me, like a jealous old man that you are. It’s actually embarrassing that you are even here.

 

So this is pretty much it, Goth. I’m going to beat you again, and that’s going to be that. After this, you need to just go away and stay away from me. Stop trying to be something you are not, and never were. You are NOT that guy, Goth. It’s painfully obvious to me, and everyone else. You should just be enjoying retirement and living with your trophy wife and sitting and talking about the good old days with your old friends, because your time is over. It’s been over for a long time, you just refuse to accept it. But this match, this is it. This is where you accept that I am the man around here, and you need to just move on with your life and your career. It’s not healthy for you to continue down this path. Yes, I am actually trying to do you a favor and make it so you are able to get around as you move on. 

 

I’m really trying to just give you an out. I’m telling you this because I need you to understand how this works. The golden era for you, is over. I am at the top of the heap, and nobody is coming close to stopping me, let alone someone like you. I’m being honest and blunt, because that’s all I can be. I’m not going to sugarcoat this Goth, that’s not me. I’m telling you that this is the best option for you to just move on. I’m going to whoop your ass, and I need you to realize that. It’s a tiny bit of mercy I’m extending to you. I suggest you take it.

 

Jack’s face contorts into the familiar scowl again.

 

Jack: Because if you don’t, and you continue to just try and fight me, and tell me how you’re ready for me, and you’ve got some tricks I haven’t seen and all this other bullshit, then, I’m going to take that as a direct insult, and then, I will hurt you. I want you to think about that Goth. Think about how bad it’s going to be for you when you are crippled or unable to walk properly because you stayed on too long and tried to swim with the biggest shark in the ocean and got eaten alive. Think about the consequences of your actions, Goth. Think about how bad this is going to get if you don’t take my advice. I’m making this as clear as I possibly can. You will be hurt, and you may never wrestle again, if you continue to be a pest to me. 

 

Because that’s what you are right now Goth. A pest. A fly on my shirt. A bug that continues to crawl on my table. You know that works right? You see a bug, and maybe once or twice, you swipe at it, get it to go away, and hope it gets the point. But much like an insect, you continue to climb back up and get in the way. And I’m done with that. I don’t need that, and neither do you. This is your twice, Goth. You need to hit the fucking bricks, and walk away before you hit that third time. Because that third time, means you just get fucking squashed. And that’s exactly what will happen to you if you persist. This is the end of the road Goth. It’s over after this. Much like I told garbage ass Alex Jones, and pathetic ass Austin Mercer. If you keep coming back, I will make it so you never come back again. And you’re a hall of famer Goth. You should know better than to keep this going.

 

So, this will be the last time, Goth. You will be beaten, and you will go away. I don’t give a shit what you do after this match, but on the cruise, in front of fans on this stupid boat, you will lose. And once this ship comes back to the port and we all get off the boat, you can go home, and look yourself in the mirror. You can look at your girlfriend, you can look at your Trans AM, your Harley, and finally realize it’s over. It’s over. You never were going to be a match for me, and at Summer XXXtreme, I will drive that point home to you. 

 

Nobody is taking this championship from me, especially not you. 

IT.

IS.

OVER.

 

 

With that, Jack dismisses the camera and we cut to black.

 

Click

 

Prologue:
Jack continues to prepare for his championship defense against Goth, hoping to finally but this challenge to rest. But as he listened to Goth’s words, it seemed to spark something in Jack. It seemed to do something to Jack, that neither he, or anyone else for that matter, might have been expecting. Perhaps the words Goth used were going to fuel Jack, but his demeanor actually changed after listening to it. It was a very scary scene that required both Jason and Brian to calm Jack down. But was it Goth’s words that truly did this, or was it Jason seemingly rubbing off on Jack. Or perhaps it’s the Washington bloodline itself? Time will only tell exactly how much the affected Jack, and what he would do and say later on regarding the match. But there is no question that Jack is hyped up for this match.

 

Outside the ring, Jack, through Jason's wheeling and dealing, managed to score a commercial shoot, using his Internet championship as a prop to help sell cars online at a used car dealership. While this was not what Jack had in mind when he thought about expanding the Washington name, it did serve its purpose and Jack did end up at least at little satisfied by the outcome. It felt really dumb to him at the time, but the commercial was indeed successful and more people began to recognize Jack along the way, since now, it wasn't just the wrestling fan who knew who Jack was, but now, more casual people, locals. As the old saying goes, you have to start somewhere.

 

 However, it was during, and after the shoot that Jack finally seemed to notice tha Jason not only had a tough time remembering things, but also appeared overly friendly, and then in the blink of an eye could be extremely hostile. Jack was worried by this, since it is my brother, but Brian did explain that Jason has had a lot of problems since he left home. Jason also is in the market to take over the market itself, and that could undue a lot of work Jack has done in the past.

 

How would this all play out now?

--

Washington Estate,

Las Vegas, NV

Jack was training incredibly hard for his match and he was even talking to himself while lifting. He was putting the work in and basically punishing himself. This was Jack's main focus, but he really wanted to sit his brother down and try and work things out so that he didn’t mess everything up. 

 

Jack finally finished his workout and took a shower, and once we he dressed and, in the kitchen, he pulled out a protein shake and began drinking it. Brian came in from the hallway, moving himself around the corner to peer at Jack.

 

Brian: Your brother is waiting for you.

 

Jack simply nodded to acknowledge Brian and soon walked himself down the hall and into his brother’s room, where Jason was on the phone and had a look of excitement on his face.

 

Jason: Yeah.. He's right here, and trust me, we’ll be happy to do it!

 

Jack: Oh fuck...

 

Jason: Yeah, see you soon!

 

Jason excitedly hung up and looked at Jack with a huge grin.

 

Jason: Another deal made, bro!

 

Jack: What kind of deal?

 

Jason: Another shoot, this time we’ll be on TV, and it’s going to get huge eyes on it.

 

Jack: What is it?

 

Jason: Some furniture place, why?

 

Jack: Furniture? Those places only have deals on stupid holidays!

 

Jason: But the brand, bro! The BRAND. We’ve still got to get out there, there’s so much territory to market.

 

Jack: The car thing didn’t even tie in with the casino!

 

Jason: But this one will! We do enough business with these people, and bam! They will be more than happy to loan us bed for prizes and shit! It’s gonna be gold!

 

Jack: Jay, are you feeling okay?

 

Jason: Yeah, why?

 

Jack: I’ve just been noticing that you’ve been... off. 

 

Jason: I’m as right as rain. You’re totally down to do this, right? I mean, think of the possibilities. We could expand into a hotel! And they could supply us beds!

 

Jack: Well, let’s start small, okay?

 

Jason: But you have to think BIG, bro. Bigger than big!

 

Jack: I don’t want to step on toes out here.

 

Jason: There’s no more toes to step on! We’re taking this town over! Like we should!

 

Jack: It’s not that simple.

 

Jason: What are you talking about? It’s real simple. If anybody wants to get in our way, we’re stomp them out. That’s what we do!

 

Jack: It really isn’t that easy. We’re going to have to talk to Sonny.

 

Jason: Sonny?

 

Jack: He owns a lot of shit in Vegas. The moment we go stepping into his territory, is the moment we have issues.

 

Jason: Fuck ‘em. Sonny can be old news. Come on bro, when you came here, you were trying to make name for yourself, and now, you act like you don’t want to. You do wanna make a name for yourself, right?

 

Jack: Of course.

 

Jason: This is the way to go. And soon enough, that Sonny guy will be begging for our business!

 

Jack: Slow it down, that’s all I’m saying.

 

Jason: Speed is progress! We’ve got a shoot in couple of days, I just need you ready.

 

Jack sighed.

 

Jack: Yeah... I’ll be ready.

 

Jason: Fuck yeah!

 

Jack left and went and sat back at the table, while Jason went right back to working on his phone. Brian wore a big smart-ass grin on his face as he sat down next to Jack.

 

Brian: You boys seem hard at work.

 

Jack: He’s gonna fuck it up.

 

Brian: That’s harsh.

 

Jack: We can’t go to war with everybody, and he wants to.

 

Brian: I just think it’s the opposite approach.

 

Jack: Opposite?

 

Brian: When you came here, you wanted to make deals with everybody, Jason is just doing things the old-fashioned way.

 

Jack: Then maybe you need to lay that out to him, and explain to him we don’t have the army to go to war with people with.

 

Brian: You fucked it up too. Give the kid some rope.

 

Jack: I’m just covering all the bases. But... I’m kinda jealous of that ambition.

 

From the other room, Jason screams out.

 

Jason: Another deal! Whoo

 

Jack: Maybe not that much ambition. Fuck.

 

--

Sleep Well Las Vegas Mattress and Furniture Westwood

Las Vegas, NV

Two days later

 

Jack: I’m not wearing this.

 

Jack looks at a Revolutionary war outfit laying by his stuff.

 

Jason: Wearing what?

 

Jack: THIS. I’m not wearing this stupid thing!

 

Jason: Wait, are you supposed to be wearing it?

 

Jack: I DON’T KNOW. I didn’t set this up!

 

Jason: Okay, hang on, keep your pants on.

 

Jason walks away and Jack continues to stew, the SCW Internet championship over his shoulder and a frown on his face. He simply looks through his phone to distract himself before Jason comes back with a larger man.

 

Jason: Jack, this is Max, he owns the store.

 

Jack: I know that. I need to know why this stupid costume is here.

 

Max: Whoa, okay, I know, wrestlers are busy, but this is for the Memorial day sale, and that outfit isn’t for you. It’s for the stunt man.

 

Jack: Stunt man?

 

Max: Yeah, the one you’re gonna slam through the bed.

 

Jack suddenly likes this idea.

 

Jack: Oh, well... shit, why didn’t you say so?

 

Max: We did. We talked about this, at least he and I did.

 

Jack eyes Jason.

 

Jason: I was just messing with ya. Relax.

 

Jack: Let’s just get this over with.

 

Jason: He’ll be fine, he’s got this.

 

Jack rolls his eyes, clearly done with this, but he waits and eventually the commercial begins shooting.

 

Max: Hey everybody, Max here for Sleep Well Las Vegas Mattress and Furniture Westwood and on this Memorial Day weekend, it’s a great time to save on a new matress!

 

Suddenly, the stunt man in a powdered wig and British accent charges into the shot.

 

Stuntman: Blimey! These matresses are too cheap, the taxes must be given the king! 

 

And that’s when Jack comes from behind the Stuntman and slams him through the breakaway table.

 

Jack: Sorry old boy, but Sleep Well Las Vegas Mattress and Furniture Westwood and I have teamed up, and we’re body-slamming you back across the pond and giving these savings to our people!

 

Max: Thanks Jack! You heard it from the champion of the Internet, folks! Thanks to Jack, if you shop online and purchase any matress, you’ll be in for huge savings!

 

Jack: We’re here to make sure your sleep is as comfortable as possible, and you can shop from the comfort of your own home. Use the promo code SCWJack at checkout and you’ll not only receive huge savings, you’ll earn 500 free chips out the Grand Flamingo Casino!

 

Max: There’s no better time or place to save than Sleep Well Las Vegas Mattress and Furniture Westwood! Shop online today!

 

Jack: Or we’ll body slam you, next!

 

The commercial ends and Jack helps up the British solider stuntman and walks away. Jason is right there to applaud him.

 

Jason: See! I told you! This is going to work so good!

 

Jack: Maybe. Maybe you got something here.

 

Jason: Hey, if they don’t, we’ll make ‘em understand.

 

Jack once again eyes his brother and his wild eyed grin.

 

Jack: Easy.

 

Jason: You just focus on that old guy you’re wrestling and I’ll handle this stuff. 

 

Jack: Since when are you interested in my matches?

 

Jason: Man, I heard what they dude said about you, if this was Philly, you’d of busted him up good.

 

Jack: You were gone when I was in the streets.

 

Jason: I knew. Dad always told me in letters. He was proud of that, in a way. 

 

Jack blankly stares at Jason.

 

Jack: Really?

 

Jason: Yeah, told me all the time. You can’t let this old dude talk shit like that though man. You’re the Internet champion. You gotta serve that dude.

 

Jack: I will.

 

Jack is now once again riled up and for the second take, he slams the stuntman down even harder. Once the take is over, the stuntman is holding his back.

 

Stunt man: Got a little into that one, yeah?

 

Jack: Sorry, it is my job.

 

Stunt man: I got you.

 

After several more takes, the shoot finishes and Jack and Jason have regroup, and are in the car, leaving the shoot having been paid. Jason starts to see an unfamiliar route Jack is driving.

 

Jason: Where are we going?

 

Jack: We’ve got to see an old friend of mine, because we need to make sure we’re doing this right.

 

--

Harrah’s Hotel and Casino

Las Vegas, NV

 

Jack led his brother up to the managers hotel room overlooking the Casino. Jason was marveling at how good the interior looked.

 

Jason: Why doesn’t ours look like that?

 

Jack: We made ours from nothing a year ago. This has been here for decades.

 

Jason: Damn.

 

They made their way to the manager’s elevator, complete with a staff member waiting in the elevator for them.

 

Staffer: Welcome gentlemen.

 

Jason: Why don’t we have a guy?

 

Jack: We don’t need a guy. Nobody comes up to our office.

 

Once they reach the top floor, there is a waiter there with champagne on ice as Jack and Jason are escorted in, champagne glasses in hand as they see Sonny, dressed in a long bathroom and sunglasses sitting on the balcony of his hotel, drinking some champagne himself. 

 

Jason: We don’t have a balcony.

 

Jack: Out hotel isn’t this big.

 

Sonny finally turns and waves as he comes inside from the balcony, a smile on his face.

 

Sonny: Ah, Jack, how are ya, kid?

 

Jack: I’m doing well Sonny.

 

Sonny: And uh... this is the hired help or...

 

Jason looks a little offended, but Jack puts a hand on his shoulder and s small laugh. 

 

Jack: No, no, this my brother. Jason. He took over the casino from Benny.

 

Sonny: Well damn, not bad there kid. Killed two birds with one stone, did ya?

 

Jack: Something like that.

 

Sonny: I know Benny probably took it hard, but business is business and sometimes you gotta move the bums out to move forward.

 

Jason: He did take it hard, but I’m sure he got over it.

 

Sonny: Pretty hard from what I heard. Ain’t seen him around much.

 

Jack: I don’t know, must have left town after that.

 

The three of them, as if they all are in on the same joke, share a knowing look. Finally, Sonny turns away, sipping some champagne and sitting down at his table.

 

Sonny: So, do what do I owe the visit, boys?

 

Jack: We just wanted to let you know that we’re expanding, and I know that may intrude on some of your space, but we mean no disrespect by it. We wanted to be sure that when it comes to this whole thing, we don’t have any problems.

 

Sonny nods, a small grin crosses his face as he rests his hands on the table, leaning back.

 

Sonny: I appreciate that you came to me to tell me that. We’ve worked together on many things, Jack. You know that I trust that you have a solid head on your shoulders. You did right by me before, so, so long as you let me know, we won’t have any issues.

 

Sonny looks over at Jason, who continues to marvel at the size and look of Sonny’s hotel room and office. 

 

Sonny: You okay over there, Junior? You look lost.

 

Jason seemingly snaps out of it, and nods.

 

Jason: I’ve just never seen anything that looks like this. I’m just... I don’t know I have to admit I’m a little jealous.

 

Sonny: A lot of people are.

 

Jason: I mean, I want this too. 

 

Sonny: I can call some people; they can come renovate what you got over there.

 

Sonny snickers at this, but Jason is none too amused.

 

Jason: Whoa, I’m sorry, are you saying... we need help.

 

Jack sees this and turns to Jason, who is staring coldly as Sonny, who is confused, but smirks.

 

Jack: Jay, be cool, he’s just messing with you.

 

Jason: No no, he knows what he said, and he knows why he said it.

 

Sonny looks over at Jack, now even more confused by this outburst of hostile feelings.

 

Sonny: Listen, Junior, I was just breaking your balls a little bit alright, you and your brother. Relax.

 

Jason: But... you said that for a reason. You think you’re better than us, don’t you?

 

Sonny looks over at Jack, who again has his hand on Jason’s shoulder.

 

Sonny: What’s wrong with this guy, Jack? I swear you need to relax and keep him cool.

 

Jack: Sonny, it’s okay, he’s just been through some stuff, you know? He doesn’t mean any disrespect.

 

Jason stares a hole though Jack and this forces even Jack to look twice. Jack then looks his own brother up and down to stop him.

 

Jack: He, didn’t mean anything by it. It’s cool, Sonny.

 

Jason continues to stare at Jack, and then turns to Sonny.

 

Jason: Can you excuse us for one second?

 

Jason’s polite 180 turn catches Sonny by surprise as well as Jack and Jason retreat away from Sonny listening to a room on their own. The speak in a hushed tone to each other.

 

Jack: What the fuck is wrong with you?

 

Jason: What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?

 

Jack: What do you... never mind, why are you being like that in front of him?

 

Jason: Why are YOU being like that in front of him.

 

Jack: Are we really doing this right now?

 

Jason: You bitched out, bro.

 

Jack: What? Bitched out.

 

Jason: I thought this was your thing, bro? You should in control of that table! 

 

Jack: I am in control. You’re the one acting like a lunatic out there!

 

Jason: That’s how we’re supposed to do things! You gotta be willing to take what you want. You’re getting soft out there. 

 

Jack: I’m looking out for you! And besides, Sonny did right by me, and I did right by him.

 

Jason: And you think that’s gonna mean a fucking thing when he wants it to not mean a thing anymore? He’s gonna hold onto shit like this until he’s dead, and then the next fucking prick will come in and do the same thing, you gonna kiss his ass too? You should have brought your knee pads, might as well blow the fucker while you’re at it.

 

Jack finally just hauls off and slaps Jason across the face. The blow stunning Jason who holds his jaw in a little bit of amazement.

 

Jack: Shut. The. Fuck. Up. I’m out here keeping your stupid ass alive. You understand that. You want to go and make a fucking war with this guy? He’s got fucking goons, we don’t have goons. We still have to deal with the Mexican mother fuckers when they show back up! And you want to add to our problems. You don’t think. It’s not going soft. It’s making the smart business move. 

 

Jason: Man... this is like war, you have to take -

 

Jack: NO! It's not war. It’s business. You want to start a war with everybody? Because I don’t know if you know this or not, but we are fucking outgunned.

 

Jason: But... but you thought about it, right?

 

Jack: ...

 

Jason: I knew it. 

 

Jason once again seems to just snap out of the anger at the moment, and nods, a smile forms across his face.

 

Jason: Okay... I got you.

 

Jason wipes his mouth, and then straightens up his jacket and the two leave the room and rejoin Sonny at the table. He eyes Jason suspiciously.

 

Sonny: You two got that all figured out now?

 

Jason: I’m sorry, sir. I just got caught up in the moment. Forgive me. I was a little out of line and that’s not why we came to this meeting. We came to make sure there was still peace. I don’t want to throw that away.

 

Jason extends his hand to Sonny, who continues to eyeball him, before he eventually shakes his hand. Jason now bares a wide grin as Jack finally speaks up.

 

Jack: Alright, now that that’s settled, I think we’re still just working with respect, yeah? A gentlemen’s agreement?

 

Sonny: Yeah, kid. Gentlemen’s agreement.

 

Jason: Sorry about earlier. Been through some things. We’ll be in touch.

 

Sonny: Sure.

 

Sonny suspiciously eyes the two as they walk away and back into the elevator. Neither one says a word until they are in the car with Jack behind the wheel.

 

Jason: I say we take all this shit from him.

 

Jack: WHAT? You were just in there telling him we’re cool!

 

Jason: Exactly. I’m gonna lure this old man in to a false sense of security. I’m gonna get him, before he gets us. 

 

Jack: You clearly need help, I’m going to take you to the hospital.

 

Jason: Come on, bro! You know I’m telling the truth! I wasn’t wrong about Benny, and I’m not wrong about this guy. Aren’t you tired of kissing his ass? It’s time we, the Washington family, we took what should be ours. You know I’m right, deep down.

 

Jack stared at Jason, not even blinking before he turned away, but there was... a gleam in his eyes. He had clearly given this some thought.

 

--

 



Click. 

 

Jack this time is standing, pacing, with an almost manic look on his face. He has a wild-eyed stare at nothing in particular, almost as if he is confused at his own situation. He looks at the Internet championship on his shoulder, staring blankly for a few seconds before he turns to the camera and begins.

 

Jack: I had to think about it, because the part of me that is... somewhat generous, the part of me that still gives a shit about people, the part of me that still wants to care... It crept back into my mind, man. It put itself front and cent of my mind and it made me think. And part of me, just want that part to go away and let me just be who I am. Because I have become conflicted with what I have to do, and how I have to do this.

 

Because let’s just face the truth of the situation: What I have to do, is destroy a legend. And part of doesn’t really want to do that, and Goth is pretty much forcing my hand. You know you are Goth. You’re making me do something I really don’t want to do. This should be just an easy thing, we go to Athens, I beat your ass and retain my title, and that should be the end of all this. There shouldn’t be anything more difficult than that. This should as easy as cake, but no, oh no, Goth wants to make this difficult. Goth wants to try and recapture some glory that he had a long time ago, and at the same time, prove to his new good buddies, who don’t even acknowledge his existence right now, that he is just like that. He is searching for validation and approval, and so, he has put himself in this situation, and he is actually trying to make them believe, and by virtue, you believe, that he has a chance in hell of winning this Sunday. Goth is actually going to try and re-make a name for himself at my expense. 

 

And I have become very, very conflicted by this. 

 

You see, I can appreciate a man trying to stand on his own two feet regardless of whether or not people cheer him or not. And by the mere fact that he will be standing in the ring with me and Into the Void, people will cheer him, because he is, as he should be, an underdog. He honestly has no business being in the ring with me, and he knows that, but he wants to make you believe that he does. He wants to make you believe that it’s 2013 again and he will be that same Goth he was back then. Part of me respects that. It really does. Hey, if you’re not bothering me, or getting in my way, do whatever the hell it is you think you can do out there. If you want to go out in the ring and act like your 25 when you’re 50, go for it. You’re only as young as you feel right? I can dig that, go out there, do you, my guy. 

 

But then we come to the big problem. You see, Goth IS standing in my way, Goth IS trying to take this championship from ME. And that, that can’t really happen. I tried to tell him, tried to warn him about what could happen, I told him flat out that he’s not in my league, he’s old, he’s fragile, he is broken down and he is better off just coming out as some kind of special attraction, or renting a folding table at a VFW and talking with all the other old-timers about the good-old days. He is much better served doing that, but no, no, Goth doesn’t want to listen. Maybe he’s hard of hearing or something, but when you come out and tell me, and tell the world that I... amuse you as the champion, that’s some disrespectful shit and that spits in the face of everything I have done, and all the work I put into this. That pisses me off and it makes me want to hurt Goth, really, really fucking bad.

 

I have to fight this urge now, to just walk up on this old man, and slap the shit out of him, knock him out of his walker and kick that shit down the road. Because I got that urge really bad right now, and I don’t want to go to jail, and I don’t want to be held responsible for what Goth is trying to make me do. Goth has his finger on the button, SCW. He’s really getting ready to push that button, and I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t know what will be left of him if he does. The man apparently has a death wish and he really wants me to put him out of his misery. He really is asking for me to do that to him, and I know you guys in SCW, you love Goth, he’s a legend, he’s a hall of famer, former world champion and everything. You want him around; you want him to show up and be able to compete in matches.

 

But if he pushes that button, he might not make it out of Athens.

 

Jack shakes his head, again staring at the championship, almost as if he is reassuring himself about what he’s about to get into. A small manic grin crosses his face as he contines.

 

Jack: I just want everybody to understand the situation that we are in right now, and how badly things can go with Goth if he continues the disrespect, he’s shown to me. Goth is of the past, and I am the present, and future of this company, I already put the damn thing on my back twice already, and we soared to the highest of highs, and now, nobody gives a shit that the cowboy has the title. And he’s gonna face another old man and things are just going downhill. I’m trying, I’m really fucking trying to do everybody a big favor and make this work. But I can’t guarantee anything if Goth really wants to go through with this. I just want to appeal the human being Goth, and not the foolish old man who is trying to re-live his glory days. I’m making it as plain as I can that this man is in trouble. I’m making it as simple as humanly possible, that if Goth pushes that button, we’re going someplace that he is no longer ready for, and he may not have ever been ready for his entire LIFE.

 

I’m making this appeal because part of me really, really don’t want Goth to make me do what he’s trying to make do. I don’t want to end a career, I don’t want to have to embarrass and humiliate this man on a stage like this. There’s no glory in that. There’s nothing to be proud of. This is lose-lose for me. If I win this match, of course I won this match, I was supposed to. Goth is an old man, he’s feeble and washed up, but if I lose, I lost to an old man. Is it not enough that you had your time a decade ago Goth? Is that not good enough for you? Are you that insecure and jealous? Is it really like that? Because if it is, and you take the choice out of my hands, and you make the choice for me, you will not have anyone to blame but yourself. I will not take responsibility for crippling an old man and making an example of him. If you choose to continue the way you’re going, this could be your last match ever. I’m telling you this, because you are a legend and I can respect that.

 

But... but but but, that’s part of me. The other part? The other very much wants you to make that choice. That part of me, is HOPING you make that choice and you make me do this. A BIG part of me wants you to make me pull that trigger, Goth. Part of me would LOVE it for you to put me in this position, because then, then I can do this without restrictions and put you out of the game without feeling the least bit sorry about it. I’ve been wanting to beat the shit out of a lot of people, and you are rapidly climbing the list. Part of me is thinking about what I could do to you.

 

The small grin is replaced by a nearly psychotic grin. Jack has never had this look on his face before on camera. The near ever-present scowl, and only semi-present smug grin is replaced by this new look. One of pure malevolence.

 

Jack: Oh yes, a big part of me wants that very much. How I could cement my legacy by putting you down once and for all. To make sure that you NEVER try and cross my path again, that you are brought back to your garbage little group in pieces and barely able to communicate, and you eat your meals through a straw for a long ass time. Part of me would RELISH in dismantling a hall of famer and leaving him a broken mess. And I get why you joined the group, Goth. You are like they are, you are weak and unable to stand on your own. And part of me can’t wait to see the look on their faces when you walk back empty handed and are nothing but a drooling mess of a person. 

 

Oh yes, that would be great. That part of me has been wanting to be unleashed for a long time, Goth. The part that watches men like you crumble, and look up at me with those eye that plead for mercy once they realize the mistake they have made. It’s why I work alone, Goth. It’s why I do what I do. Because I get the chance to humble people like you. Because you have to understand Goth, I hold your future in my hands. I can do things to you that nobody has ever done before. I can take you and reduce you to less than nothing, and part of me wants to see what that’s actually like. I get fucking giddy over here, thinking about how I can hurt you, and how I can show you how dangerous I am. I always tell people I will do whatever it takes to get to the top, and stay at the top. And what you are doing right now? What you’re doing right now is putting your finger on that button to make unleash everything and not have to worry about the consequences, because it’s not ME who’s going to be responsible for that.  No, it’s you Goth. You would be solely responsible for what I do to you. 

 

That part of me scares me sometimes Goth. Maybe I’m fucked up, you know? Maybe I just have these impulses to do bad things and that darker side just pokes it’s head out from time to time and it’s just making sure I know it’s still there. And I know, you’ve got a name like Goth, you’re into that cult shit, that devil worshipping or whatever, and that doesn’t scare me, like I scare myself. Because you can dress like it’s the fucking 1700’s or bite the heads of chickens and bathe in their blood or whatever the fuck, but nothing worries me, than thinking about what I can do to a man. But that’s not even the worst part. That part of me that wants to do that shit, it wants to let me ENJOY IT.

 

That part of me has imagined what it would be like. I mean, that’s what I got into wrestling for outside of money. To punch motherfuckers in the face and not go to jail for it. And what you’re doing right now is going to take the handcuffs off of me. It’s going to set me free and then, when I destroy you, and when I beat your ass, possibly nearly to death at your age, it won’t be my fault. You have you hand on that button, and I know, I know deep down you want to push it, because you want to prove yourself. You want to show everybody that you still got it and you can hang with any generation of talent. And you know that you’re going to really want to push that button, and while part of me really wants you to stop yourself, because that part of me knows what’s going to happen, the other half is outright FUCKING DARING YOU to do it. That part of me is licking his chops, ready to beat you within an inch of your life and make you regret ever trying me, Goth. I guess the ball is in your court now.

 

It looks like someone has just flipped a switch and all that maniacal grinning goes away. The scowl returns, and then the smug grin. Clearly Jack is torn, or borderline psychotic himself. Something clearly has changed.

 

Jack: That choice is really up to you. You are playing with fire and you’re going to get burned, Goth. The real questions is, which are you going to choose. Are you going to restrain yourself, take your ass whooping like a man, and then show me the respect I deserve? Are you going to understand that you are taking not only your career but your LIFE in your hands when you do this?  Are you going to realize that you are no longer a player in this game and just let it finally sink in?

 

Or... are you going to make me beat the respect and everything else, out of you? You understand that you’re fucked, either way, right? You’re not going to walk out of Athens with my championship, that’s for damn sure, if you’re think that you got a punchers chance, that’s about the best you have, Goth. But you might as well be blind and have arthritis because that’s the best you can hope for. Are you going to push that button and make me beat you like a red-headed step child until you cannot take it anymore, Goth? Are you going to play the brave solider and ride into battle and go out guns blazing? Let me just make it clear that you have no more ammo in your gun and you are out gunned from the start. It’s basically a suicide mission for you, Goth. 

 

Is that what you want? Is that REALLY what you want?

 

I would just advise you to choose carefully. Because one way or another, I’m going to do what should have been done a long time ago, Goth. It’s just like when the horse is lame and it can’t race anymore. It’s like when... what’s the dog, old yeller. Yah, Old yeller got rabies and they had to put him down. That’s what this is going to be, Goth. Just like that. The only real difference, you have a choice how you go out. You can go out peacefully, or I can TAKE YOU OUT.

 

I will leave the choice up to you Goth, I just hope that you are comfortable with the consequences of your actions. 

 

You will be put down, Goth. One way or another. Part of me wants you to accept that, and the other half is BEGGING for you to disagree. It’s waiting for you to make that choice, and when you do, that’s it. Although, I have to warn you now, that you may choose the easy way, and you might just still get the beating of your life.

 

One way or another, we’re going out back, Goth.

 

And I’m gonna pull the trigger.

 

See you in Athens, Old man.

 

Jack makes a gun out of his finger, and mimics a trigger pulling and that has us cut to black and we’re out.

 

Click.

 

Prologue:

Jack seemingly suffered a setback at Climax Control two weeks ago. A rare lethargic showing caused Jack to lose a non-title match to Senor Vinnie, which raised some questions and doubts about Jack, but maybe raised the stock of Vinnie more in the eyes of the fans and management. People have been quick to pile onto Jack and give him grief about not only the loss, but expressing doubt about his ability to defend the title at Into the Void against the hall of famer, Goth. Goth has been very vocal, and it caused Jack to retort last week on Climax Control. Now with the war of words growing, Jack must focus and not fall even further, as he defends the Internet championship against former Roulette champion Bill Barnhart, and if Jack isn’t focused this week, he won’t even have a match at Into the Void, and will walk away with nothing.

 

Outside the ring more than likely contributed to Jack’s downfall as he got very drunk in celebration of his win, and the hangover and celebration seemed to last forever. Jack however also questioned his decision to get rid of Benny, but Brian assured him it was the right thing to do for the sake of the Casino, and the bad deals made by Jack. Perhaps it was guilt, perhaps it was shame, but Brian’s words seemed to soothe Jack over for the time being. Now with the championship in toe, and Jason now in control of the Casino, he seemingly has bigger plans for Jack, and the talk continues to head towards expansion. Jack doesn’t really have any idea what type of expansion Jason is talking about, but the Washington’s seemed primed to take a little slice of Las Vegas for themselves.

 

--

Grand Flamingo Hotel

Las Vegas, NV.

 

Jack took the staff elevator up to the crow’s nest where Brian and Jason were already seated. Jason was peering at the security cameras and Brian sat going over documents relating to the casino. Jack entered, and Brian simply glanced in his direction and Jason turned his head, nodding at Jack, who sat down. The three sat in silence for a few moments before Jason turned away from the cameras and stood up, looking at the Casino floor from the overhead view. 

 

Jason: This is pretty sweet.

 

Jack: I take it you’re enjoying things?

 

Jason: So far. 

 

Jack: That’s good.

 

Jason: Still have some big ideas we need to talk about.

 

Jack: Yeah, something about getting our name out there.

 

Jason nodded, turning back to Jack, before sitting back down at the table.

 

Jason: But first, I think there’s some house cleaning we have to do.

 

Jack looked at Jason confused, not sure what he was referring to.

 

Jack: What do you mean?

 

Jason: There’s one guy I don’t trust here. I never had ever since I started.

 

Jack: Somebody giving you trouble?

 

Jason: No. But I just don’t get a good vibe from him, and I know sooner or later, he’s going to fuck something up and we’ll have to get rid of him.

 

Jack: Well, don’t play the pronoun game, who are you talking about?

 

Jason looked at Brian for a second, and then back at Jack.

 

Jason: Danny Anderson.

 

The name coming from Jason didn’t ring a bell. Jack seemed even more confused. After all, he didn’t know every single employee here, just a handful. The people who mattered. This name wasn’t anything to Jack.

 

Jack: Who?

 

Jason: Quiet dude, doesn’t talk to anybody. Just sit there and does his job.

 

Jack was still lost, until Brian finally answered his question.

 

Brian: The commish’s kid.

 

Jack finally got it, and he shook his head.

 

Jack: Oh, him. Yeah, we... we can’t get rid of him.

 

Jason looked very confused, almost offended that Jack had told him no. He stared at his brother, almost bewildered.

 

Jason: What? No, bro. We have to get that dude out of here. He’s no good. He’s going to bring the whole place down. He creeps out the people down there.

 

Jack: I don’t care. He’s important. 

 

Jason: I thought I was in charge.

 

Jack sighed and rubbed his face.

 

Jack: You are, Jay, you are. That’s not what this is about.

 

Jason: We don’t have any bad shit going on anymore, man. We’ve got nothing we need to hide. The kid is going to drive away customers.

 

Jack just shook his head.

 

Jack: No.

 

Jason: What’s the commissioner going to say about what we do here, bro? Nothing. He’s got nothing.

 

Jack sighed again.

 

Jack: Jay, I didn’t see it at first either. Trust me, I had this exact conversation with Brian about that kid. I didn’t want to hire him, and I saw exactly what you see. Okay? You’re not wrong. I’m not telling you that you are wrong, or going over your head. I’m telling you that for this particular thing that you want to do, we just can’t.

 

Jason was growing more and more impatient about this.

 

Jason: And why the hell not?

 

Jack: Because that keeps powerful people off our back. That kid being here, he makes a lot of things less difficult. That way we don’t have people snooping around here.

 

Jason: We don’t have anything to hide.

 

Jack: We did just send Benny on a permanent vacation.

 

Jason sighs himself.

 

Jack: And I’m pretty sure some people are going to be very curious about how that happened, why it happened, and why you’re suddenly in charge. That’s why we haven’t done an official announcement yet.

 

Brian: Stick has a point, Jay.

 

Jason angrily sighed, but he accepted this, for how long would be a better question to ask.

 

Jason: Fine, fine. I can’t believe you guys won’t let me have any damn fun. I’m running a damn casino and I can’t have any fun.

 

Jack: This can be very fun. Watching these poor suckers lose their money is something that can be very fun.

 

Jason: You know what else is fun?

 

Jason quickly turned back to the security cameras and motioned for Jack to join him there. Jack stood up and walked over, peering over Jason’s shoulder.

 

Jason: Catching people cheating.

 

Jason pointed to the camera as Brian also stood up and took notice.

 

Jack: How do you know?

 

Jason: Watch.

 

Jason is quick to see that two men are signaling to each other and counting cards. Jack and Brian both take notice of this as well. 

 

Brian: Jay’s got a good eye for this shit.

 

Jack: He does.

 

Jason: Now, can I deal with it, or are you gonna tell me no on that?

 

Jack and Brian both looked at each other, and then at Jason.

 

Jack: Have fun, Jay.

 

Jason smile grew as he radio’d down to the floor manager.

 

Jason: Earl, I have a couple of runners on 2nd base down at pit two.

 

Earl: Roger.

 

Earl, a large bald man begins to direct traffic and it blends into the flow of the casino. Slowly, Earl moves his men into position. Jason gets on the radio again.

 

Jason: I’m going to need the B-day special.

 

A few seconds later, at another table, several waitresses and waiters bring a large cake out to the floor, heading to one of the dealers, who is obviously in on what’s happening. He feigns surprise. There is laughing and signing for the dealer. Offering up a distraction.

 

Jason: Whenever you’re ready, Earl.

 

Earl’s people move in, and soon in all the confusion and distraction. The cheater signaling is zapped with a taser. He goes down, and security is already conveniently there to assist him. The other cheat realizes this and quickly exits his table, heading to cash out. The tasered cheater is carried away. Jason smiles to himself and turns to Jack and Brian.

 

Jason: Now, I’m going to really have some fun. Want to see?

 

Jack: I don’t think it would be good for me to be there.

 

Jason: Suit yourself. You can watch from the backroom camera. 

 

Jason grabs the radio and speaks one last time.

 

Jason: I’ll be down in a minute, ensure the second runner is thrown out at home.

 

Jason seems to have some pep in his step as he takes the staff elevator down to the floor, and then walks around to the back area. The cheater in the back room is held down by the four security guards as Jason makes it to the room.

 

Jason: Well, I didn’t think we’d have somebody try and take this place for a lot of money.

 

Cheater #1: I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about man!

 

Jason: Right. Of course, you don’t. I must have made a mistake. Well, let me just make sure. 

 

Jason signals to the security.

 

Jason: Empty his pockets. 

 

The cheater is strip searched, and several signaling devices are found. Jason shakes his head.

 

Jason: We’ve seen you. And we’ve seen your buddy. So, I guess the first question is, what hand do you write with?

 

Cheater #1: What?

 

Jason: Are you left-handed, or right-handed?

 

Cheater #1: Why?

 

Jason: I’M ASKING THE FUCKING QUESTIONS! I ASKED YOU A SIMPLE ONE! 

 

Jason is right up in the man’s face, and has a manic look on his face. 

 

Cheater #1: Right... right-handed.

 

Jason: See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?

 

Cheater #1: No.

 

Jason makes another signal and the man’s right hand is CRUSHED by several swings from one of the security guards with a lead pipe. He crumbles to the ground, holding his hand and groaning in pain.

 

Jason: Guess you’re going to have to learn to do things left-handed from now on, huh?

 

The door opens and the second cheater is brought in.

 

Earl: He was trying to cash out.

 

Jason: Thank you. 

 

Cheater #2 sees his partner is an obviously large amount of pain, and Jason’s none-too-happy expression.

 

Jason: I’m going to give you a choice. You can keep that money, and as payment, we’ll take both your hands, or you, and your piece of shit friend here, can walk out. You can’t have both.

 

Cheater #2: I just want to leave.

 

Jason: That’s a wise choice. Don’t ever try and fuck me in my casino, you understand that? 

 

Cheater #2: Yes, sir, I’m so sorry.

 

Jason: Give me the money.

 

The second cheater wisely hands over the money.

 

Jason: I find one fucking cent is off and you tried to pocket it just now, I will take every single fucking appendage you have.

 

Cheater #2: It’s all there! I swear!

 

Jason: Good. Don’t ever fucking come back here. If I catch you in here again, with a fake beard or some other shit, you will lose more than everything. You understand? You may think you have one of those forgettable faces, but right now, I will spot you from a mile away. You understand?

 

Cheater #2: Yes, yes sir!

 

Jason: Get the fuck out of here.

 

The second cheater gathers up the first cheater, but then he is whacked in the back of the leg with the pipe sending them crashing to the ground.

 

Jason: HURRY UP!

 

The two cheaters muster the strength to finally leave. Jack and Brian have been watching the whole time on the camera. They look at each other, a bit taken aback by Jason’s extreme approach.

 

Jack: He takes this seriously.

 

Brian: That’s what you need. Now those fucking guys won’t come back. They will become nothing. Because they know. They had their moment of glory, and now... they’re just happy they’re alive.

 

Jack: Yeah, no shit.

 

--



Click.

 

We are once again with Jack in his home, sitting on his couch, the Internet championship draped across his lap. Instead of his usual scowl, Jack seems almost bemused, while still annoyed, as he begins.

 

Jack: It just seems everybody wants to run their mouths about me these days. It’s getting almost sad with the number of pathetic attempts to rattle me, or get my attention or, basically just to troll me at this point. It’s seriously sad. I mean, my god, Goth, a grown man, who calls himself Goth, figure that one out... the point here is this man is tweeting me and making awful threats and now all of a sudden, he’s pumped up. He’s pumped up and ready to fight me, because a couple of weeks ago, I had a moment of weakness.

 

I did. I can admit that. Unlike a lot of these chumps around here, I can raise my hand and say, I fucked up. Because I did. I did not take Senor Vinnie as serious as he probably should have been taken, and because of that, he got a win over me. A fluke win, but a win none the less. And that, is on me. I fucked it up. I didn’t do what I knew I was capable of, I got a little lazy, I had a little bit of a championship hangover no doubt in my mind. But that’s just what happened. I had that moment where I let a win slip through my fingers and I have to deal with the consequences. I messed that up and I was weak.

 

But rest assured that I will learn from that, as I have learned from all losses. Everyone who gets one over on me, I learn, and I adapt, and I get better. I mean, I’m still only 26 years old. I haven’t even reached my peak as a pro wrestler and I am already light years ahead of these scrubs and would-be legends. I am only going to get better, I don’t think people really understand that, because I am wise beyond my years. I have done more in half the time as some of these buffoons. So yeah, there’s going to be moments where I slip up. Although I am amazingly talented, sometimes, there a lapse in concentration and things happen.   

 

People have been praying on my downfall since day one. The moment where I fall so that they can call me kid and say shit like “You gotta pay your dues.” and other stupid bullshit so they can sound wise. But the truth is they aren’t. They aren’t, and they never will be. And because those moments are so few and far between, those people get mad, they get pissed because I back up all the shit I talk. They act like I owe them respect. And I don’t owe them a god damn thing.

 

And then I get what I’m getting now. The hate, the snide comments. But they hate me, because they ain’t me. That’s just the way it is. As much as they want to throw out the tired cliché's and try to act like they can one up me, they know they can’t. Matt Knox, Vinnie, Alex Jones, Ken Davison, Kris Ryans, the list goes on and on. And now Goth has joined that list. I’m just going to real with you Goth, get your shots in now, because at Into the Void, I’m giving you all that work back, and I will make you regret ever calling my name like you really wanted this work.

 

Jack’s eyes shift down ot the championship as he takes it in his hands, looking at it and smirking for a brief moment, before his serious demeanor returns.

 

 

Jack: But, anyway, I have to move forward because this week, the champ is one again in the main event, where I belong mind you, as I courageously defend my Internet championship against Bill Barnhart.  I almost forgot the man even worked here still. I was honestly drawing a blank because that’s what I think of when I hear the name Bill Barnhart. Nothing. Empty space. I don’t think of anything. And why is that, Bill? Why is that I just think of nothing? Because that fits you to a T. You are nothing. You were nothing before, you are nothing now, and you will be nothing in the future. You’re really not a part of this franchise’s big picture moving forward, really, your services aren’t really required, and neither are your wife’s. Like, there must be a glitch in the pay system or something that you still show up and get paid. There must be. There is no other plausible explanation for your continued employment.

 

Wait, don’t tell me, Bill, you were Roulette champion once, yeah? You held that championship up until recently, yeah? See, I know who you are, my guy. I’m not completely blanking on you. The name just tells me all I need to know. You just have one of those names. You just have one of those face, you’ve just had one of those careers. You’ve done one thing in your entire life you can brag about. And really, it went largely unnoticed. That must suck. It must absolutely suck to you. It must suck to know that for as long as you have been here and consistent as you have been, you’re going at level one and you will always be at level one. It must be painful to know that this is pretty much as far as you will ever go in your career. I wouldn’t know, because I don’t have that problem. I went straight to the top, and this right here, currently is just a minor pit stop before I’m right back up there where I belong. 

 

But I get it. I get you Bill. You’ve got a wild hair up your ass now because you saw me fall. You’re just going to be another shit bird who thinks that now is the time to strike because you saw that. You think that I’m vulnerable right now because I have people coming at me from all sides because quite frankly, I’m a bigger target than the world champion. That’s what people like me do, Bill. They make what they have more important than it was. Who gave a shit about the Internet title before I won it? People have cared about this championship since the bum-ass Cowboy had it a while back. I have instantly made it relevant again. And you think I’m just going to let you walk in and take it from me? You are sadly mistaken Bill, but that’s what people like you think. That’s level one thinking.

 

 

Jack points to his head to emphasize the point before continuing.

 

Jack: Now, I’m going to level with you, Bill, this is probably going to be the one and only time that you get a chance like this. We both know it, and while you can sound as confident as you want, you know deep down that this is nerve wrecking for you, and you know even deeper down that I’m going to beat your ass and you have about a snowball’s chance in hell of beating me. Because you are simply not on my level. So, I can see the hamster wheel in your head turning. You’re going to pull out all the stops, throw caution to the wind because you’re going to want to show everyone that you are actually better than everyone knows you are. You want to dream big and punch above your weight class. It would be almost comical, but you, you actually believe that. You actually think that you have an actual chance to beat me and take this championship from me.

 

Son, I don’t allow anything to be taken from me without a fight. And this is a fight, you cannot win. But, I tell you what I’m going to do for you, Bill. I’m going to humor you. I’m going to give you the chance to showcase exactly how good you are. Because that’s what I want. Normally, I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about how good you think you are, With the mood I should be in, this wouldn’t last 30 seconds before I laid your ass out in the ring, and either pinned you, or made you tap out. I would CRUSH you like a bug, Bill. I would take out every single ounce of frustration and aggression on you and leave you regretting every poor life choice you have ever made. That’s what I would do, and maybe it’s what I should do, but I am looking around and I understand that I have to be the real champion around here and life you up to a level you will never reach again. The fucking cowboy is giving old men their last dances with glory and trying to act like some kind of... savior or something.  That’s not me, Bill. You and I? We’re going to do something special. Well, okay, “we” is a strong word. “I” am going to do something special and I will make you better than you ever were, for a small amount of time, on Sunday night.

 

I’m going to go to the ring with this championship around my waist, and I will give you the chance to dance with the lights on bright, and maybe in the end, people will have a little more respect for you than what little they have for you now. I’m going to give you the chance to shine, and let you feel what it’s like to be in the ring with the face of this franchise. I have to lift you up, Bill. That’s what people in my position do. What born leaders like myself do. So, I’m going to give you a once in a lifetime opportunity, Bill. And once that is all over, once that time has passed, I want you to do something for me.

 

I want you to treasure that shit, because it will NEVER happen again.

 

 

Jack’s face is a serious as a heart attack. He shakes his head and scoffs, placing the championship again across his lap before he finishes up.

 

 

Jack: I will build you up, and I will break you down like you were a fucking tent. You understand me, Bill? You will be thanking me at the end of the day, but let’s just face the facts, once your time is up, and I’m done humoring you, I will dismantle you and I will beat you and I will retain my championship. I will make the world stand up and take notice of you for a fleeting glimpse, Bill, and then I will take it all away and leave you with nothing but the memories of how you got your ass beat, and much like all these other people who try and bring me down, you’ll just be added to the list. A pile of broken pieces of trash that I gave their chance to shine, and took it away.  You can choose to be two things here Bill, you can be bitter like so many others have been, or, you can be grateful for me doing exactly what I say I’m going to do. What you do is your choice, but at the end of the day, you will know what it’s like to be in the ring, with greatness.

 

I will give you a small glimpse of great, and then you will head back down to level one and start all over again. It’s just that simple. You will be humbled, Bill. I say what I mean, and I do what I say. Maybe in the future, you will rise to level two after you take a look back at all I have given you. But you will not be taking this championship from me. Because I know you got that wild hair making you think you got this, and this is the time to go for broke, but the reality is, this is the time for extreme caution, and for you to pay attention to how a true champion conducts his business.

 

That, of course, is provided things go smoothly. Now, if you get another wild hair up your ass and decide you want to get all froggy and try and jump, and you want to act like you really want this work, then your night is going to end real quick. I’ve been trying to be nicer around here, Bill, they say I’ve got a bad attitude. Don’t make me pull it out and beat the ever-loving shit out of you and leave you a broken shell of a man who will only make his wife disappointed with how pathetic he looked. You just play ball, and everybody wins. You decide to fuck it up... it will be the last mistake you ever make.

 

Don’t try me, Bill. Just fucking don’t. I will see you Sunday, and I will make you more than nothing for a brief moment in time. You will thank me on Monday.

 

Jack shoos the camera away with his hand, as we fade to black.

 

Click.

Prologue:

Jack made it pretty clear how he feels about his opponents going into Blaze of Glory. Obviously, his disdain for Ken Davison is well noted and documented, and although he offered Matthew Knox seemingly a chance to not take part in the match, Matthew Knox IS going to show up and that’s not going to make Jack very happy. Maybe he was saying it in jest, but Jack has never been one to really make jokes. With all that being said, the week draws to a close and Jack prepares one last volley of vitriol at his opponents headed into Blaze of Glory, looking to win the Internet championship for the first time.

 

Outside the ring, it was once again reiterated by Jason that he wants Benny’s spot as owner of the casino, and is not above simply wiping out Benny in order to do so. Jason also suggested that the Washington brothers could expand beyond the casino into the local markets, but Jack seems to think that the brand name of the Washington’s is not strong enough for such an action right now. Granted, the casino is making money and Jack is more than happy with the current arrangement, but Jason did remind him that Benny’s role at the outset was the be the fall guy should something happen to the Casino. And after the incident with the Mexicans, Jason does have a valid point about Benny being the fall guy, but he simply was not used as the fall guy.

 

Jack visited the casino to talk to Benny and find out his stance, and Benny was none too happy about the situation with the Mexicans and how it endangered the work at the Casino as well as Jason’s life. Benny also suggested a raise for himself as almost a payment for dealing with the situation as well. Jack listened to Benny, along with Brian. Jack told Jason that he would listen to Benny and see where he stood, but it seems that Jack may be coming around to Jason’s side, and that Benny may no longer be of use to Jack.

 

Will Jason have any other ideas? And what will become of Benny after his years of loyalty to Jack?

 

--

Washington Estate

Las Vegas, NV

 

Jack and Brain sat at the table, waiting. Neither was in the mood to speak, both sitting in silence, awaiting Jason to return. Brian took the moment to grab 3 glasses filled with ice and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Eventually Jason comes through the door, finished with work at the casino. He instantly spots the two at the table, and the three glasses, so a smile crosses his face, and he gently sits himself down, dropping his work bag on the floor. Brian pours the three glasses as Jason is the first to take a sip.

 

Jack: Long day?

 

Jason: Security work isn’t the greatest job in the world. Why don’t we have guns anway?

 

Jack: Because you’re security, not a cop.

 

Brian: Don’t want to give the impression things are dangerous around the Casino anymore, you know?

 

Jason: Very funny. Could have used some guns then too.

 

Jack: I get it. But no guns, besides, I don’t think you’ll be needing them anyway.

 

Jason’s eyes light up as he seems to know what that means. He takes another drink of the Jack and continues to smirk.

 

Jason: I must be getting a promotion.

 

Brian: Looks that way, I think.

 

Jason: So, there must be news, then?

 

Jack: Benny seems to think he deserves a raise. And more credit for everything he’s done.

 

Jason slaps his hand on the table and lets out a chuckle.

 

Jason: I TOLD you. I fucking told you, Bro. He was going to use anything he could to try and strongarm us, man. I fucking called it. Now you see why I wanted to get rid of his ass, right? I mean, come on, it’s right there on the wall.

 

Jack held his hands up in attempt to calm Jason down.

 

Jack: I just wanted to listen to his concerns. And he had a lot of them. 

 

Jason: You knew he was the fall guy, right? Ya’ll planned for that. I’m telling you, we get rid of him now, and we won’t have any more problems.

 

Jack: We still have quite a few problems, Jay. Even if we took Benny out of the picture.

 

Jason: I’m tell you now, bro. You get rid of Benny, that’s a huge problem out the window. The dude is a ticking time bomb. You said it yourself. You heard what he said. Money and recognition. That mean that one day, the mother fucker will do some shady shit and drag you down, he’ll drag US down. 

 

Brian: You know, the kid has a point Stick.

 

Jack: I told you that he was eager.

 

Jason: I just know a potential problem when I see one. The dude ain’t gonna do shit but be in a shitty mood unless you pay him more money, and you know what that’s gonna lead to? Wanting even more money. And more power. I’ve seen the shit man, it’s no good.

 

Jack nods, as everything Jason is saying does make sense to him.

 

Jack: Okay, say we get rid of him, and we put you in his spot, what is to stop you?

 

Jason looked taken aback by this question.

 

Jason: Whoa, you know me, bro. I’m family. You know you can trust me.

 

Jack: And I don’t trust anybody more than I do you, which is, let’s be real, not a lot. You’ve had a problem with drugs. You got involved in this because of me. What’s there to say that you don’t get pissed at me one day and then I’m in the exact same situation?

 

Jason held up his hands in mock surrender as well.

 

Jason: Wow, you really think I would -

 

Jack: Yes. I do. You’re family, Jay, I love you because you are family. But so is Brian, and I don’t trust his ass either.

 

Brian: Feeling is mutual, Stick.

 

Jack: So, Jay, you may be able to see where I’m coming from.

 

Jason scowls, thinking about the logic being used by Jack, as he finishes his first glass and pours himself another drink. After a moment, and another swing. He nods.

 

Jason: I wouldn’t do that to you, bro. You saved my life. A couple of times, let’s be real. I owe you a lot when it comes to this shit. I wouldn’t never turn my back on you like that. You know me. You have my word. We’re blood, bro. That is forever. 

 

Jason extends his hand and Jack looks at it for a moment, then at Brian, who takes a swig himself.

 

Brian: It’s up to you, Stick. I think the kid had a point, and... he owes you a lot.

 

Jack turns back to Jason, still with his hand out, and Jack finally shakes it and smiles.

 

Jack: Well, looks like we got ourselves a new owner.

 

Jason smiles broadly at this announcement. The handshake breaks and Jason pours everyone another round of drinks.

 

Jason: I think this calls for a celebration.

 

The three raise a toast.

 

Jack: To new ownership?

 

Jason: To new ownership.

 

Brian: To new ownership.

 

The three slam down down their drinks and begin to just continuously drink, finishing the bottle between the three of them. Finally, after some time spent with this joyous celebration, Jason finally raises a question.

 

Jason: So, what do we do about Benny anyway?

 

Jack: I think tomorrow, we’ll have to have a very difficult conversation. And I think you should be there.

 

Jason: Oh?

 

Jack: Of course, This wasn’t really my idea. It was yours, and I think you might be able to break the news a little better than I would, or Brian would as well.

 

Jason: Shit yeah.

 

Brian: Just... you know, let him down gently, you know how he gets when it comes to bad news.

 

Jason: Maybe. I’ll think about it. In the meantime, we got another bottle?

 

Brian: Way ahead of you.

 

The three break out another bottle of Jack Daniels to continue the celebration.

 

--

Grand Flamingo Casino

Las Vegas, NV

 

Inside the casino’s upper room, Benny sits and observes the camera and what’s going on inside the casino, hearing the various chatter from security on walkie talkies. There is a knock at the door that makes him again clutch his pistol inside his coat. He takes a moment, before Jack and Brian walk in, Jason behind them. Benny is seemingly put at ease by the sight of Jason, and he extends his hand and shakes all three of their hands in a sign of respect.

 

Benny: Gentlemen. 

 

Jack: Benny, we had a day or so to think about things and I just wanted all of us to be here so we can discuss what we talked about the other day.

 

Benny: Really? 

 

Jack: Yes. Really.

 

Brian: I’ll keep him in line, Ben, don’t worry.

 

Benny: You’re a good man, Brian. You always have been the reasonable one.

 

Jack: Let’s just have a seat.

 

The four men take a seat at the boardroom table in the back of the room. Benny sits at the head of the table, Jack and Brian to his left, and Jason to his right. Jason slaps Benny’s shoulder playfully and encouragingly as they sit.

 

Benny: So, what have you decided?

 

Jack shrugs.

 

Jack: You made some very valid points about us putting you in a tough spot and you holding it together. Can’t deny that. Hell, won’t deny that. You’ve done really well, and the business is booming with you in charge and keeping everything together. And we know it wouldn’t be fair to keep you at the same rate after everything that’s happened.

 

Benny: You sure I’m talking to the right person? This doesn’t seem like you at all, kid.

 

Jack: Well, given the circumstances, things have to change sometime.

 

Benny: Well, hot damn... I thought this might have gone a different way, you know?

 

Jack: Yeah, don’t worry. We’re gonna make some wholesale changes.

 

Benny: Wow, I never expected this.

 

Jack looked over at Jason, who again placed a hand on Benny’s shoulder.

 

Jason: That’s not what we meant when we said changes were going to be made. Ben, I hate to be the one who has to tell you this, but... we’re going to have to let you go.

 

Benny’s whole demeanor changes as his face gets red with anger and a little embarrassment. He points at Jason with a small chuckle. 

 

Benny: You can’t be serious. You really let the kid get that joke out?

 

Benny looks over to confirm this is a joke, but it isn’t. Jack and Brian are stone faced and do not share in Benny’s tone.

 

Jason: You can make this really easy, or you can make it harder than it is. You’ve been loyal, I know. And you helped this place get off the ground. That’s what makes this so difficult to do. 

 

Benny snatches away from Jason’s hand on his shoulder, standing up and taking a step away from the chair.

 

Benny: This is the thanks I get from you mother fuckers? Huh? This is what loyalty gets you? Fuck all three of you! I can make this place go down the fucking tubes faster than you can say Mexicans! You want to throw me away? FUCK YOU. Nobody is throwing me away. No. Not by a fucking long shot.

 

Benny reaches into his coat, producing his pistol. 

 

Benny: You wanna fuck with me. Fine, I’ll show you who you’re fucking with!

 

Jack, Benny, and Jason make no outward movement despite Benny pointing a pistol in their direction.

 

Jack: Benny, I know this is -

 

Benny: Shut the fuck up! You aren’t taking me down. I’ll fucking guarantee that. If I go down, I’m taking all of you with me.

 

Benny continues to point the gun at the Washington’s, but Eric and his security team have silently moved into position and tackle Benny to the ground ensuring he can’t use his pistol, and Jason begins directing traffic. 

 

Jason: It’s just time to move in a different direction, Benny. I know you understand. It’s not personal, it’s business. Well, no, fuck that, you point a gun at me, then it becomes personal! Get this fucking guy up. 

 

Eric’s team hold Benny in place, dragging him to his knees and stretching out his arms along a table. Jason pulls a hammer out of his jacket, as Jack stands up, with the ownership paperwork. He puts it right under Benny’s nose.

 

Jack: We’re changing ownership, Benny, and you need to make a choice. 

 

Benny: Fuck you!

 

Jason: Okay, quick question. Are you left-handed, or right-handed?

 

Benny doesn’t answer the question, defiance in his eyes.

 

Jason: Okay, I’ll take a guess then.

 

Jason walks around to Benny’s left side and begins smashing his left hand with the hammer in hand. Benny yells in pain as bones in his hand break.

 

Jason: Now, I can’t continue up your arm, or you can sign it with your right hand. Your choice.

 

Jason aims the hammer at Benny’s wrist, but Benny stops them.

 

Benny: Okay! Fuck! I’ll sign it!

 

Benny is handed a pen and quickly signs his name, giving ownership to Jason.

 

Jason: I knew you’d see the light eventually. Now, let’s just make sure this is all nice and binding.

 

Jason hands the papers to Jack, who hands them to Brian, who looks it over. 

 

Brian: Looks good to me.

 

Benny: You fucks! You sick fucks! I was good to you!

 

Jack: You were, Benny. You really were. But I’m afraid you are no longer useful. 

 

Jack gives a nod and Eric’s group throws a black hood over Benny’s face, and then one of them cold clocks him with a blackjack. Benny stops yelling and screaming.

 

Jack: Make sure he’s not going to be found anytime soon.

 

Eric’s goons give a nod and they disappear with Benny out of the room. Jason is very proud of himself.

 

Jason: That went better than expected.

 

Jack: I'd say so. 

 

Brian: Well, here’s to new ownership.

 

Jack: Congratulations bro. That’s one hell of a promotion.

 

Jason walks over to the window, looking down on the rest of the casino, oblivious to what happened in the room.

 

Jason: Under new management. It’s time to shake things up.

 

--


Click.
 

Jack is currently looking at himself in a mirror, not focused on the camera, but he begins anyway.

 

Jack: God damn I love me. 

 

You know that feeling when you get in your opponent’s head, and you live rent free? And you know that you absolutely OWN a piece of them? That’s really how I feel when it comes to Ken Davison. I mean, Ken clearly knows his days as champion are fucking over and done with come Blaze of Glory, and so, what do we have left to even say? I guess, I can say that I’m glad that Ken Davison watches me talk. It’s probably the highlight of his day to be honest. I mean, I’m the most entertaining thing since movies came in color. I am seriously giving Ken Davison all the attention he wants so badly, because without it, he’s just be another bald-headed asshat who thinks they are badass and can make watching fucking paint dry sound fun. I mean, I guess when he became a dad, he took the bullets out of the gun, or cut his nuts off because I have never heard a less-threatening man in my life. I mean my God man, this was just utter insomnia-killing gibberish and honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself for trying to out trash-talk me. You got a big mouth, but you’re shooting blanks when it comes to this thing Ken. You really don’t have the ammo to compete. You’re a clown, and not even a particularly funny one either. 

 

I mean, did you hear that Ken said that I was selfish? 

 

Wait for it... wait for it.... 

 

NO. FUCKING SHIT.

 

Jack turns to face the camera, an incredulous look on his face.

 

Jack: Of course, I’m selfish, Ken. You fucking idiot. Have you met me? Have you seen me out there? I’m fucking incredible. I think I made that very clear from day one. The day I walked into this company, I told everybody, I don’t give a shit about any of them. And guess what? You know what that means for you? It’s fucking grandfathered in. I don’t give a shit about you either, Ken. I don’t give a rat’s ass about you. I care about one person, ME. Duh. That’s my whole thing.  I feel like I’ve said that a few times, but apparently, you’re late to the party. A day late and a fucking dollar short, much like always. I mean, at this point, insulting you is a waste of my time. You, yourself, are a waste of my time. I’ve said it a million times, I am the Face of this Franchise. The big-name player. The crown jewel. I rose to the top of this company, faster than pretty much anybody. In the same amount of time that it took you to finally earn a a championship match, I was already a World Champion. You are only making yourself sound stupid, by trying to compare anything you’ve done, to what I have in the short amount of time I’ve been in SCW. I should be the World champion right now! I beat your fucking Cowboy leader right in the middle of the ring, no questions asked. You saw, you know it. 

 

So, I have to ask what in the holy fuck do you think is going to happen to you? You think that because you snuck in and stole my Internet championship match at Inception, that it somehow means you’re anything? You are a fly on my fucking shirt, Ken. You are irrelevant to me. This is just going to be proof of what I already know, but I’m sure, since you just figured out that I’m selfish, that you’ll be repeating the next time you feel froggy and try and do something about the shit I say I’m going to do.

 

Jack shakes his head before continuing.

 

Jack: That’s the thing, my guy, I don’t make promises or say things that aren’t true. I say what I mean, and I mean what I say, and when I say, that I will beat your ass in front of your little girl, I fucking mean it. I will beat you like a damn dog and watch her cry her little bratty eyes out when she sees what I do to you. And that’s just because you have something I want. And because you stole from me, and have tried to act like a badass because you beat a paper champion. I don’t back down from challenges Ken. I have faced the best in this company and I’ve talked the same shit to them, as I do to you. You are not special, you are not different, other than the way you look, and you referring to yourself as God like a fucking tool. 

 

The real difference, is that those people actually did something in their careers, while you, haven’t. And I know, this is where you bring up however twenty different championships and however many Hall of fames and whatever else you want to try and justify yourself, but to me, you’ve done three things, and all of them are trash. You joined a group of losers, you stole my championship opportunity, and then you beat a paper champion. Outside of that, you are still a joke. I don’t need to respect you, you’re a piece of trash. When you actually do something worthwhile, I might actually respect you a tiny bit.

 

Oh, nah, I can’t lie about it, I will always and forever think you are a piece of trash. That’s never going to change. No matter what you ever do in your life, you will be garbage to me. I know you’re disappointed, since you enjoy going through my promos with a fine-tooth comb and everything. You want to try and cherry pick things to try and throw back at me. You know what that says to me, Ken? You are a desperate man, searching for any advantage he can get because he knows he’s a fraud. Trust me Ken, at Blaze of Glory, I will expose you for the trash champion you are, and I will take it from you and make it mean something instead of being a piece of gold and leather that you carry around for show. 

 

At Blaze of Glory, you will get your ass whooped Ken. And then, you can tell me what a disgrace I am all over again, because I’ll still be the Internet champion, and I will still be better than you.

You bitch.

 

Jack gives a half smile and a half chuckle thinking about what he’s going to say next.

 

Jack: Now, look... Matt Knox. I tried to be you know, sporting about this. I tried to give you the out from this match, and just let me beat the shit out of Ken Davison and be done with it. I guess you don’t like him either, which isn’t surprising, and he doesn’t like you, probably because he doesn’t like people who are probably better than him. So, while I understand why you would want to be in this match, and why you think you deserve to be in this match, and maybe your hearts in the right place or some poetic shit like that, but I’m taking this as a refusal of my offer. I get that the dumbass wanted you added to the match, but since when do you listen to him? Since when do you take what he gives? He’s an idiot, and really, all he’s trying to do is make sure that when he loses, he can try some ex-champion bullshit and try and get a rematch with me, because you’re in the match, and you’re going to lose to, so he’s trying to make sure you can’t get anything out of this. I just want you to understand that. 

 

What I offered you was a great deal. It was the best deal. Come back some other time. Save your strength and endurance. Kick the shit out of this loser some other time. Then you can come for me, and I’ll kick your ass, but at least you would have earned it, and you would have had the fun of beating up Ken Davison. It was win-win for a much of a win-win as you can get. It was a perfect scenario for you. 

 

But instead, you’re choosing to talk shit and get yourself involved in this. And that’s a slap in the face, Matt. A slap in the god-damn face and I was willing to work with you for the time being. I was willing to try and make this work. But you have chosen to ignore that, and that’s insulting. And as Ken knows, you do not want to insult me. Ask Ken, ask Alex Jones, and Kris Halc and Austin Mercer and literally anybody I’ve trashed over the past two years. I don’t hold back, and I don’t care who or what you are. I tried to give you the option to spare you from this, but no, you guys all want to be tough guys and act like you really want these problems. 

 

So fine, you really want these problems, then so be it. You have nobody to blame but yourself for this Matt, I don’t have a problem with beating your ass, just as soon as I would Ken’s. You didn’t have to take this road, but since you’re taking it, then you can get lumped in with him. It seems you two have some kind of a history, and you are more than welcome to settle it, but do it on someone else’s time. I don’t have time to be in some kind of little scuffle between you two. I’m the number one contender for the title that Ken is currently fucking up, not you. I told you before you don’t have any god damn business in this matter, but no, you want to be a tough guy now too, right? Fine, if that’s the way it’s going to be, then that’s the way it’s going to be. I said you don’t belong here, and I will prove it to you at Blaze of Glory. And then, you will have fuck all to show for showing up and taking an L. I don’t even want to pin you, I don’t want to make you submit, that’s not even worth it. What I’m after is the same thing I want to do to Ken. I’m going to beat your ass so badly, and so convincingly, that you don’t ever try me ever again. That’s the kind of thing I enjoy. Proving a point, Matt. You can get this work, and I don’t have any issue giving it to you. 

 

So, just so we’re clear, what happens to you at Blaze of Glory is now all your fault. You will have nobody to blame but yourself when you walk out of Blaze of Glory with nothing and you don’t even get the satisfaction of beating Ken’s ass, because I’m going to beat you to it. You could have had this all to yourself at some other point, but, you’re here now, and you have made one of the biggest mistakes of your entire career, Matthew. I don’t give a flying fuck about you, or where you stand in front of, or if you call yourself a monster or not. You know what people who call themselves monsters are, Matt? Fake. If you seriously want to be that guy, I feel bad for you. Nah, I don’t feel bad, I am embarrassed for you. I mean, you’re a grown man, you’re an old man. Don’t go full Alex Jones on me. Don’t be that guy, Matt. It doesn’t make you sound intimidating, it makes you sound stupid. You have to know that, right? You have to be fully aware of calling yourself a monster is the same thing as calling yourself an astronaut when you’re five. You’re playing pretend, Matt. And that’s really the thing here. If you’re reaching into your bag of old man tricks to try and re-capture some lost edge you had in your youth, I’ll be there to kindly remind you that you cannot turn back the clock anymore. Those days are over Matt. I am the best now. I’m at the top, not you, and not Ken. I don’t play pretend, I play for keeps. And because you wanted to do this, I will prove it to you at Blaze of Glory.

 

Jack sits down, shrugging at the camera.

 

Jack: Let’s just be real here. I earned my number one contender status. Matthew Knox was added in because He didn’t lose and Ken Davison is an idiot. This was a massive oversight by Mark Ward, and I’m sure he’s aware of that. Perhaps he was just caught off-guard by Ken Davison’s stupidity and that’s why this is a triple threat match. Because it really shouldn’t be. This match should be me, kicking the shit out of Ken Davison one-on-one. Period. The fact that this is a triple threat match is absurd, but you know what? I’m taking this as a test. I call myself the face of the franchise for a reason. And because of this, I’m being tested right? I mean, it’s not like I haven’t been given the shaft before around here. I mean, let’s be real, I should be the world champion for the third time, right now. But instead I’m here, and you know what? I’m cool with that now. I will simply pass yet another test, because at the end of the all of this, I will prove to every single person that I am simply the best that there ever was in this company’s history. It’s little things like this that test a person’s mettle, and I will once again rise to the occasion prove to everybody, I am what I say I am.

 

Now, there it is, all laid out nice and neat for you both. You know how this was going to end regardless of me telling you or not. You both should be well aware that you are not on my level and this is the worst possible scenario for the both of you. This is where the cream rises to the top, and you two asshats go to the bottom where you belong. In case you both somehow missed it, yes, I am an asshole, I am arrogant, I am egotistical. I am all those horrible things you called me. 

 

Why? Because I can be. 

 

I have proven time and time again that I am fully capable of backing up everything I say. Whether it’s all by the book, is not what I’m about. If I have to beat you both with a fucking pipe, I will. I don’t care how it gets done, I care about winning. That’s all. In my eyes, the end more than justifies the means. And in this match, there’s no disqualifications. There’s nothing to stop me from bashing your brains in to get what I want. I have warned you both about what’s about to happen and how I’m going to beat both of you and walk away the Internet champion. So, at this point, there’s nothing really left to say. You are both going to get your asses whooped and you will have nobody to blame but yourselves. I will destroy both the paper champion and the pretender contender. 

 

This Sunday, you are both going to be my bitches. 

 

Get ready chumps, and don’t take this ass whooping personally. 

 

You are both just stepping stones to my continued greatness. 

 

Deal with it.

 

With that, Jack dismisses the camera and we cut to black.

Click.